/ . /3
PRINCETON, N. J.
Purchased by the Mary Cheves Dulles Fund.
Di'vision oreso
Section-’- W.3']
AMONG CONGO CANNIBALS
Boloki Man and his Wife
Notice the cicatrice on the man’s forehead and on the woman’s stomach. The brass ring round
her neck in some cases weighs as much as 28 lbs. In her hand she is holding a paddle.
AMONG
CONGO CANNIBALS
EXPERIENCES, IMPRESSIONS, AND ADVENTURES
DURING A THIRTY YEARS’ SOJOURN AMONGST
THE BOLOKI AND OTHER CONGO TRIBES
WITH A DESCRIPTION OF THEIR
CURIOUS HABITS, CUSTOMS
RELIGION, (sf LAWS
BY ^
JOHN H. WEEKS
CORRESPONDENT TO THE ROYAL ANTHROPOLOGICAL INSTITUTE AND TO
THE FOLK-LORE SOCIETY
AUTHOR OF “ CONGO LIFE AND FOLK-LORE,” &fc, (^C.
WITH 54 ILLUSTRATIONS &f A MAP
PHILADELPHIA
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
LONDON : SEELEY, SERVICE CO. Ltd.
1913
PREFACE
The object of the author throughout these pages has
been to give an account of his experiences among the
Boloki (or Bangala), and a description of the manners,
habits, customs, etc., of this interesting people amidst whom
he lived in closest intimacy as a missionary. The author went
to the Congo in 1881, hence his residence in what has been
aptly called “ Darkest Africa ” covers a period of thirty years —
fifteen of which were spent in other parts of the Congo, and
fifteen amongst the Boloki people. These pages, however, are
not a record of missionary life and work, but a descrip-
tion of primitive life and native organizations, of African
mythology, superstition, and witchcraft, and of barbarities
that are the natural outcome of the native’s view of life.
The writer, from the very first days of his life amongst the
Boloki folk, kept extensive and careful notes of all that he saw
and heard around him. The anthropology and folk lore of
the people have always been interesting subjects to him ; and
while reducing the language to writing, a task which demanded
a clear understanding of the various words in use and the cus-
toms which they often describe, he was gaining an insight into
the native life and mode of thought only vouchsafed to those
who have won the confidence of a savage people, and are living
in close and sympathetic touch with them.
The author has no particular anthropological axe to grind,
but has tried to give in plain language what he has seen and
heard, leaving to the reader the pleasure of forming his own
theories. The reader of these pages may rest assured that
nothing is exaggerated or overcoloured. Had the writer wished
9
PREFACE
he could have described the appalling corruption of native
morals, the lack of innocency even among the very young, the
absence of virtue among the women, and the bestiality exist-
ing among the men. One often felt the need of a moral bath
to cleanse away the filth. An intimate knowledge of the natives
impresses one with this fact : that the golden age has not yet
dawned for them ; and that the unsophisticated savage living
a dolce far niente existence in happy surroundings has not yet
been discovered on the Congo.
Had this been a book dealing with missionary effort among
the Boloki, the author would have made due mention of the
honoured colleagues who so unstintingly shared his labours at
Monsembe ; but as it is an account of the people themselves,
their customs, habits, etc., this must be his apology for an
omission that is due not to forgetfulness of happy years of
comradeship, spent amid many perils and hardships, but
simply to the limited scope of the narrative.
The author is much indebted to the Royal Anthropological
Institute of Great Britain and Ireland for permission to use
his articles printed by them in their Journal; and for a similar
kindness extended to him by the Council of the Folk-Lore
Society. His best thanks are also due to his former colleagues,
the Revs. C. J. Dodds and R. H. Kirkland, for their ready per-
mission to use the photographs bearing their names ; to Prof.
F. Starr, of Chicago University, for permitting the cats’
cradles to be reproduced from the Proceedings of the Daven-
port Academy of Sciences ; and to Baron Haulleville, Directeur
du Musee du Congo Beige, for permission to reproduce here the
plates of some of the Congo Fish which were made from
specimens collected by the author. To A. R. Wright, Esq.,
Editor of Folk Lore, and to the publishers’ Reader, the writer
tenders his hearty thanks for useful criticisms and helpful
suggestions.
John H. Weeks.
10
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
Page
In Search of a New Site . . ... 27
CHAPTER II
Settling at Wonsbmbe , . ... 38
CHAPTER III
Struggles with the Language . . ... 48
CHAPTER IV
Early Days at Monseaibe . . ... 65
CHAPTER V
Arts and Crafts and Native Industry . . . . 79
CHAPTER VI
Customs : Some Curious and some Cruel . . . 96
CHAPTER VII
Social Life and Organization .
11
107
CONTENTS
CHAPTER VIII
Page
Marriage and Child-bearing . . ... 122
CHAPTER IX
Native Education . . . ... 140
CHAPTER X
Native Games and Pastimes . . ... 149
CHAPTER XI
A Page of Native History . . ... 159
CHAPTER XII
Native Government and the Natives . ... 169
CHAPTER XII 1
Native Laws, Crimes, and Ordeals . ... 179
CHAPTER XIV
Mythology and Folk Lore . . ... 197
CHAPTER XV
War . . . . ... 222
CHAPTER XVI
Hunting . . . . . * . . 229
12
CONTENTS
Fishing
CHAPTER XVII
Page
. 235
Religious Beliefs
CHAPTER XVIII
. 246
CHAPTER XIX
The Boloki World op Spirits . . ... 261
CHAPTER XX
Medicine Men and their Magic . ... 276
Taboos and Curses
CHAFFER XXI
. 294
CHAPTER XXII
Native Charms and their Uses . ... 302
Death and Burial
CHAPTER XXIII
. 314
CHAPTER XXIV
Native Diseases and their Treatment . ... 324
13
CONTENTS
APPENDIX
Note 1. — On Yeasts, Ferments, and Bread Making
,, 2. — On the Boloki Verb . . . .
,, 3. — On the Boloki Method of Counting
,, 4. — On Boloki Relations or Kinship
,, 6. — On Native Diseases . . . .
,, 6. — On the Health op White Men on the Congo .
INDEX . . . . .
Page
335
336
339
342
345
346
350
14
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Boloki Man and his Wife . . . . t'rontispiece
A Meal en route . . . . . . .
A new type of Native House . . . .
A Village Street in Monsembe . . . .
Group of Mobeka Men .....
Looking up Lake Libinza from Bosisera
Our Boat and its Crew .....
A Room in the Monsembe House . . . .
Pots and Saucepans for sale, Libinza Lake
A Native Woman of Wealth . . . .
Burning Grass for making Salt . . . .
A Boloki Drinking-bout . . ...
A Boloki Woman and Child .....
A Memorial to a deceased Head-man
Boloki Women preparing an Evening Meal
Group of Boloki Women at Mobeka . . . .
Native Carpenter and his Workshop . . . .
Model of a State Steamer .....
Group of Libinza Folk .....
Mangwende. A typical Boloki Head-man
A Monitor . . . . . . ,
Page
22
22
34
42
42
76
76
83
90
92
100
102
104
116
118
150
150
156
160
162
15
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Page
A Native Hut . . . . ... 162
White Ants’ Nest . . . . ... 190
Boloki Boys with Wine Jar . . . ... 200
Huts built for use during War time . ... 222
A Boloki Shield . . . . ... 224
A Boloki Method of Beheading . . ... 226
Tetrodon Mbu . . . . ... 236
Gnathonemus Numenius . . . ... 236
Genyomyrus Donnyi . . . ... 242
Protopterus Dolloi , . . . ... 242
A Mungala Creek Village . . . ... 264
A Libinza Charm for protecting a Village . ... 278
A Charm for increasing the Birth-rate . ... 290
Fetish for ensuring good health to Twins . ... 308
A method of Beheading on the Upper Congo . ... 316
Head-man and his Wife . . . ... 320
Method of securing a Prisoner . . ... 326
A Boloki woman dressing her Husband’s Hair . ... 326
The Author doctoring a Crocodile-bitten Hand . ... 332
16
AMONG
CONGO CANNIBALS
INTRODUCTION
WHEN living at San Salvador, in what is now known
as the Portuguese Congo, in the early eighties of last
century, the writer frequently conversed with the
natives about the inhabitants of the far interior who occupied
the banks of the Great Congo River and its tributaries. The
San Salvador folk assured him that the natives of the mysterious
hinterland were “ half fish and half human ” ; that “ from the
navel upwards they were human, and downwards they were
fish.” No arguments would alter their opinion, and no amount
of good-natured raillery would shift them from their position ;
and they generally clinched the matter by saying : “You
have never seen these people ; but some of our grandfathers
saw them, and told our fathers about them.”
One night this general belief that up-river folk were “ half
fish and half human,” received a severe shock from which, I
think, it never recovered. A caravan that had been trading
towards Stanley Pool returned to San Salvador bringing with
it a slave woman from far up the river. About midnight I
was aroused to go and see this woman. No one understood
her language ; but she was making vigorous signs, and her
owner was not sure whether the gestures indicated hunger,
fatigue, or illness ; so there was nothing for it but to “ call the
white man to interpret the signs,” or, perchance to talk with
B 17
INTRODUCTION
her, “ for these white men know everything, therefore let us
send for one residing in our town.”
On arriving at the hut we saw, by the fliekering blaze of the
fire, a fine, well-proportioned woman of splendid physique.
Her hair was arranged in a coiffure, coloured, stiffened, and
kept in shape by being plastered with palm-oil, and the powder
of burnt pea-nuts, or soot. It looked as though she wore a
shining black fez on her head, slightly tilted backwards. She
was probably a Bambala, or a Kiteke woman of that branch of
the tribe that lived behind the riverine folk three hundred miles
above Stanley Pool.
The signs were interpreted as denoting some stomach trouble,
and after a little medicine had been given we heard no more
about it. During the short time she remained in the town she
was the observed of all observers — a curiosity from afar ; but
her appearance killed once for all “ the half-human and half-
fish ” theory the San Salvador natives had so fondly held
respecting the inhabitants of the Upper Congo.
When in later years I went to live among the Bangalas on the
Upper River, I found that they held as strange theories about the
remoter peoples higher up, or north and south of them. They
would tell of monsters down south whose chief was a woman ^
with a white skin that shone so fiercely that the eyes of those
who looked on her were scorched ; or of people away north
who lived in trees and ate raw flesh, etc., because they did not
know how to make a fire ; or of folk far away in the watery
west who lived half their time in the water and had webbed
feet like ducks. It would seem as though folk of all climes, of
all ages, and of all degrees of civilization have amused them-
selves by peopling unknown regions with mythical monsters —
Cyclops, men whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders,
centaurs, mermaids, etc., and that even the savages of bar-
barous Africa beguiled the long evenings around their fires by
1 Had the fact that some portions of South Africa were governed by a
woman — Queen Victoria — filtered through the tribes in this distorted
fashion ?
18
INTRODUCTION
conjuring up freaks in nature, like the more learned ancients,
to inhabit the countries beyond their ken.
There is another peculiarity of the natives, worthy, perhaps,
of notice in this connection : those who live on the coast
always refer to the hinterland folk in contemptuous terms as
“ bush-people,” i.e. ignorant, dull, slow in the up-take, or as we
say, country yokels, clod-hoppers. When you arrive in the
hinterland you find that dwellers in the large towns speak of
those who live in the villages and hamlets as “ bush-people,”
and they put into their tones such contempt that one is sur-
prised to find that they belong to the same tribe and speak the
same language.
Arriving on the Upper River you find also that all riverine
peoples speak of the interior folk — those living away from the
river — as “ bush-people,” and utterly beneath their notice.
There is no more opprobrious phrase that can be flung at a
native than to call him a “ bush-man ” in a language that he
understands. He will resent it, and if there is the slightest
chance of success he will fight over it.
In June, 1890, after having lived on the Lower Congo at
San Salvador and Matadi for nine years, I started for the
Upper Congo for the purpose of seeking out a new site for
missionary effort amongst the natives of a new tribe and lan-
guage. Between the last navigable point on the Lower Congo,
Matadi, and the commencement of the navigable water on the
Upper Congo, Stanley Pool, there were 240 miles of very bad,
rough road.
Since those days a Belgian company has built a narrow-
gauge railway running between Matadi and Stanley Pool. I
cannot pay too high a tribute to the splendid courage, persist-
ency and engineering skill exhibited by the Belgians who
surveyed the land for the lines at the cost of many lives ; and
built the railway, conquering immense difficulties, and thus
achieving for themselves a great and deserved financial success.
If the Congo Free State had sent men of the same kind and
class to govern the country that the railway company sent,
19
INTRODUCTION
and are sending, to build and control the railway, we should
never have heard about the terrible atrocities that have taken
place, nor should we have heard of mal-administration, cruel
oppression, and the mutilation of wretched, unprotected
natives.
The railway officials treat their native employees honourably
and honestly ; and although hundreds of our native Christians
work on the railway as stokers, guards, brakesmen, storekeepers,
and stationmasters, I have never heard a single complaint
from them against their white masters. They have to work
hard, but they are treated justly, and they are sure of their pay;
and our native Christians are always ready to sign contracts
with the railway authorities for one or more years.
In the early eighties the road from Matadi to Stanley Pool
was thickly populated, and every hour or two brought the
traveller to a large, decently-kept town ; but in 1890 the people
were mostly gone, and the few villages left on that long stretch
of road were small and neglected, and the few remaining people
had a wretched, poverty-stricken appearance. Why this
change ?
In the meantime the country had become the possession of
the African International Association, which quickly changed
into the Congo Free State with King Leopold II of Belgium
as its ruler. Zanzibaris were imported during this period,
armed with rifles, and sent up-country to found and occupy
the State stations on the Upper Congo. These soldiers no doubt
were liberally provided with brass rods to buy native food on
their march to Stanley Pool ; but they found a people practically
unarmed, for what were flint-lock guns in the hands of natives
— who depended more on the magic of their “ medicine-men ”
for straight shooting than on the accuracy of their aim — against
weapons of precision in the hands of a trained and unscrupulous
soldiery such as were the Zanzibaris? The results were constant
raiding on the part of the Zanzibaris ; looting of unprotected
native huts ; taking twenty rods’ worth of food and throwing
down only two or three rods in payment ; and often when there
20
INTRODUCTION
was a white officer in charge, and he was appealed to, no
redress was obtained by the defrauded native, nor punishment
meted out to the offender ; but frequently the accuser was
beaten from the white man’s presence, thus adding physical
suffering and insult to the loss of goods.
There is a probability that the natives were turbulent and
swaggering in their attitude ; but it was not until after the
first outrages had been committed by the Zanzibaris that the
natives retaliated on every favourable occasion. From what I
know of the folk from thirty years’ experience of them, I feel
sure they were not the first aggressors — they had, and still
have, too wholesome a fear of rifles to be that. It was only
when they had been treated like rats, having no rights in their
own country, that at last, like rats, they turned at bay with
hearts inflamed by hatred and revenge. But flint-lock guns
could not compete with rifles ; and small, untrained bodies of
men lacking leaders and cohesion could not contend against
drilled soldiers who fired bullets that penetrated two or three
men, so there was nothing for them but to leave their towns on
the road, and build away in the forests and valleys at some
distance from the main track running through the country.
Hence what was once a populous trade route, humming with
life in the early eighties, had become by 1890 a desolate track
that by its lack of people disappointed the new-comer, who in
Europe had heard of the teeming millions of the Congo, but
could not now in 240 miles of road find enough people to fill
a decent-sized English village. “ Where are the people ? ” was
the frequent question on his lips.
“ They have left the trade route, and have rebuilt their
towns and villages in the woods, the valleys, and the bush
lands for peace and security,” was the repeated answer.
“ Why ? ” was invariably the next question.
“ Because the land was cursed with a plague of rascally
Zanzibaris, and irresponsible white men who feared their soldiers
more than they feared God, and who acted unjustly in their
dealings with the people.”
21
INTRODUCTION
Lest some of my readers should think that I am unduly
prejudiced in the above statements of what took place on the
Stanley Pool road, let me give the history of another trade
route in practically the same part of the Congo along which
people of the same tribe and language lived, and for the same
period of time, viz. 1878-1890.
The pioneers of our Mission in 1878 penetrated the interior
from Musuku, which is about fifteen miles below Matadi, and
used that place as a base for nearly five years. In 1883 a
better site for their purpose was found on the top of the hill at
Tunduwa (about three miles below Matadi). Our early pioneers^
found the road between Musuku and San Salvador well popu-
lated with hospitable people, with plenty of food, so that there
was no need to take rations for men, and very little provisions
for themselves, and towns were so numerous that a tent was
unnecessary. *
When we removed our base to Tunduwa the traveller to San
Salvador dropped down to Noki in a boat, and in two or three
hours from Noki he joined the Musuku to San Salvador route.
It was generally a five-days’ journey.
When I left Musuku in January, 1882, for San Salvador, I
found just what my predecessors had found — plenty of villages,
abundance of supplies (fowls, eggs, goats, vegetables, native
bread, etc.), and a hospitable people ever ready to lend us a
house in which to pass the night ; and for all the eight years I
knew the road intimately, and traversed it, the supply of food,
the number of villages, and the kindliness of the people re-
mained the same. Yet during that time there was an increase
of traffic on the road, for our transport grew as our Mission
extended ; and in the meantime two trading factories — one
French and the other Portuguese — were started and main-
tained in San Salvador, necessitating a greater number of
carriers on the road.
What made the striking difference between the two routes —
depopulation and poverty on the one, continued prosperity on
* Messrs. Comber, Bentley, Crudgington, Hartland, and GrenfelL
22
Photo by] \_Pev, A. Biltington
A Me\l “ex route”
The carriers, tired with a four hours’ journey, on coming to a resting-place, drop their loads and
stretch themselves for a good rest. Th^ personal lads prepare a meal, and as there is a while lady
in the party a white table-cloth is spread over the rough table in her honour.
Photo by] C. y. Dojit^s
A New Tvpe of Native House
These large, airy wattle and daub houses are taking the place of the old-style grass huts that
were formerly the usual structures throughout the district. They are more healthy, clean, and
comfortable.
INTRODUCTION
the other ? I have already given the causes for the wretched-
ness and desolation found on the road to Stanley Pool in 1890
and the succeeding years ; now let me state, clearly and briefly,
the reasons for the flourishing condition of the San Salvador
road. The men used for the transport service on the latter
route were natives of San Salvador and district, Kroo boys
and Loangos, they travelled unarmed, they bought their food,
and so long as they observed the well-known courtesies of the
road they moved freely and were unmolested. The carriers
thus behaving themselves en route, the natives treated them
fairly, and often supplied them with water — a by no means
trifling kindness in a country where there are no water-taps in
the houses, and the refreshing drink has often to be carried a
mile or more.
The inhabitants of the various villages knew that if they
overcharged the porters, were extortionate in their demands,
and surly in their conduct, the carriers would give them a wide
berth and, by making a detour, leave them severely alone ;
and thus a regular source of their village’s wealth would be cut
off. Besides, the natives are fond of social intercourse, giving
and receiving news, and these men who passed constantly to
and fro between the centre of native life at San Salvador and
the outside world as represented by the trading stations on
the river, were always full of interesting news, and to turn
them aside from a village by outrageous conduct was equal to
cutting themselves off from the world, stopping as it were the
daily papers and the weekly budgets. This was unthinkable,
for natives are sociable folk and like to keep in touch with their
fellows.
When any serious cases of dispute arose between the carriers
and the natives on the road, they were brought to us at San
Salvador, and we settled them impartially, justly, and amicably
to the satisfaction of the parties concerned.
The natives who lived near the large rivers that were im-
passable by fording during the rainy season, built bridges
across them, and kept them in repair. We white men at San
23
INTRODUCTION
Salvador acknowledged our indebtedness for this service by
paying an understood sum in barter goods — the traders paying
a much larger amount than the Missions ^ because their trans-
port was heavier — when we heard they had completed the
bridges. It was no easy task to make these bridges long and
strong enough, considering the materials and tools the workmen
had at their disposal ; but it meant for us that the road for
our cases, bales, and mails was open all the year round, and also
that our carriers and goods ran no risks from swollen, swirling
rivers.
It will be seen from the above that the natives on the San
Salvador road were treated very differently from those on the
other trade route under consideration, consequently the villagers
of the former maintained the food supply, retained their
character for hospitality, and continued to live and thrive on
the transport line ; while the people on the Stanley Pool route
left the track, and starvation, depopulation, and desola-
tion were the results. The Congo natives have a keen
sense of justice, and they appreciate straight and honest
dealing.
It was my first intention to add a chapter on the results of
the Congo Free State’s regime. I refrain, however, from doing
so, but desire to touch upon the subject in a few short para-
graphs. The charges brought against the Congo J'ree State
during recent years have, unfortunately for the natives, been
proved too true. More than that, they were worse than could
ever be published in the daily Press, for no self-respecting editor
could, or would, have printed in his paper the outrageous and
abominable details that were brought to light by those who
were living in the midst of them.
We hope, and we trust not in vain, that by the accession
of King Albert and his gracious consort. Queen Elizabeth, to
the throne of Belgium a better day is dawning for the poor,
oppressed and downtrodden natives of the Congo ; and the
* The Portuguese Roman Catholic Mission settled at San Salvador a year
or more after we had begun our Mission.
24
INTRODUCTION
news that has come to us from the reformed part of the Congo
indicates greatly improved conditions.
It is tacitly understood just now that we should give the
Belgian State an opportunity of carrying out its reforms ; and
although the agitation is not being prosecuted with its former
activity, that does not mean that we are to relax our former
vigilance, nor shall we do so until the natives enjoy those
rights which are their proper heritage in their own country.
We missionaries are neither ashamed nor repentant, and never
will be, of the humanitarian part we played in bringing to light
the enormities that came to our notice. We had given up home,
the comforts of civilization and, rightly or \\’rongly, we had
devoted our lives to the amelioration of the natives, and we
could not as men, as Englishmen, as Christian men, stand by
and see those natives, for whom we had given up all, slowly
oppressed to death for the sake of a clique of men in Europe
who were in a hurry to get rich.
I was among the first to raise my voice against the horrible
conditions that prevailed until recently in many parts of the
Congo, and my mode of procedure was this : I sent my letter
of protest, first to the “ Commissaire ” of my district ; if no
investigation into the charges was made, then I forwarded a
copy of the letter to the Governor- General at Boma, and then,
if after waiting the necessary length of time there was neither
inquiry nor redress, the letter, with all particulars, was posted
to Mr. Morel for publication in the English Press as the last
resort. The State itself forced us to appeal to the public.
The Commission of Inquiry selected by King Leopold himself
exonerated us from all blame and thanked us for the part we had
taken in the agitation, for on investigation we were able to prove
to the very hilt every charge we had brought against the
administration of the now defunct Congo Free State. It is too
late in the day for travellers to deny that atrocities were com-
mitted because natives do not talk to them about such things.
Let such travellers thoroughly learn the language of the people
and gain their confidence and then listen to their story.
25
INTRODUCTION
The native does not wear his heart on his sleeve for every
crow to peck at, and when he sees a white man, here to-day and
gone to-morrow, who knows little or nothing of his language,
hob-nobbing with State officials, he is not going to pour out
his heart to such and tell what he has suffered at the hands of
the traveller’s white friends.
What the Congo needs is a Government not seeking to
enrich itself to-day, but with visions of a colony the inhabitants
of which, in days to come, shall rise up and call it blessed ; it
needs civil officers swayed by honourable principles, and con-
trolled by pure, conscientious motives that shall administer
impartially righteous laws ; it needs traders who shall deal
fairly by the people (and some of them do that, we are glad to
say), who will exchange the wares, the civilized conveniences
(not fiery spirits) of Europe for the labour and produce of the
natives as a further incentive for them to work, travel, and
trade ; it needs the agriculturist to introduce better methods
of cultivating the soil and fostering the resources of the
country ; it needs the mechanic to teach various trades and
industries ; the educationalist and the Christian teacher to
cultivate the mental and spiritual side of the natives — these all
working harmoniously together, no one class sneering at the
other, no one arrogating to himself the work of another, but
respecting each other and co-operating for the uplifting,
civilizing, and Christianizing of the Congo people. We shall
then see a people not cursing the white man, but blessing
him ; not cringing before the white master in grovelling fear
and hearts bursting with hatred, but standing erect as God
intends men to stand ; and not downtrodden and oppressed,
their lives a misery to them, but free and happy with the joy
of life pulsating through their veins.
26
CHAPTER I
IN SEARCH OF A NEW SITE
Steamer Peace — Bangala tribe — Panic in Bungundu towms — People become
friendly — Driven away from Bokomela — Fierce and revengeful natives —
Revisit Bokomela — A cordial welcome — Reason for warlike attitude —
Shooting a native for a wager — Monsembe district — Bumba people stand
to defend their women and children — Quietness dispels their fears.
During the early days of July, 1890, we were busy at
Bolobo station, preparing for our long journey up-
river in search of a new site for a mission station.
The steamer Peace, a vessel 70 feet long by 10 feet 6 inches
wide, and of very shallow draught, was placed at our disposal.
The Rev. W. H. Stapleton, who had just arrived from England,
was appointed to be my colleague ; and as Mr. Silas Field had
charge of the steamer and crew we were without responsibility
respecting them, and were free to land at every available place
and investigate its suitability as a centre for our work.
At this time the Baptist Missionary Society had three
stations on the Upper Congo — one at Bolobo, about 200 miles
above Stanley Pool, another at Lukolele, a little over
100 miles farther on, and the third at Bopoto, more than
400 miles beyond Lukolele, or 700 miles from Stanley Pool.
It was thought desirable to plant a station among the Bangalas
at a point somewhere midway between Lukolele and Bopoto,
and thus occupy a part of that great unevangelized district
inhabited by one of the finest tribes on the Congo.
The Bangalas were reported to be a strong, warlike, cannibal
tribe of fierce habits, cruel customs, and independent spirit.
27
BANGALA TRIBE
They would demand patience, tact, and the facing of many
dangers from those who, without arms and soldiers, went to
live among them. Still, such splendid men were worth winning
to better ways, notwithstanding the many possible risks to be
encountered in the work. As savages they were feared by sur-
rounding tribes, and if won to Christianity their indomitable
courage warranted us in hoping they would become the in-
trepid heralds of their new faith.
By July 11th we had packed on board our little steamer the
nails, provisions, tools, barter goods, and medicines that could
be collected for our new project. A better outfit would have
been welcome ; but we thought it was wiser to start with what
we could get together than to wait an indefinite period for
larger supplies.
Two days after leaving Bolobo we arrived at Lukolele, and
in due time Lulanga was reached. Lulanga was a large town
at the mouth of the Lulongo River, a fine tributary of the Congo.
There our search began. It took us fifty minutes to walk
through the town, the houses of which were built closely to-
gether. We estimated the population at 3000 people. There
was then less than a mile of bush, and another town of over
1000 inhabitants, and about an hour’s walk back from the
river were other clumps of villages containing, we were informed,
more than 2000 persons. It was a good centre for our purpose ;
but the Congo Bololo Mission had established some stations up
the Lulongo River, and after consulting with their senior
missionary at Bonginda (30 miles up the Lulongo), we decided
that the town at the mouth of the river they were working
should really be their base of operations, and as they promised
to occupy it, if we did not build there, we left it to them.
At Lulanga we left the south bank of the Congo, and after
two hours’ steaming and winding among the numerous islands
we had the large district of Bungundu stretching before us on
the north shore of the river. Picking out the biggest town we
could see from the deck of our steamer, we steered our way
towards it, and as we drew near we could see the women
28
PEOPLE BECOME FRIENDLY
seizing hold of their children and their fowls, and scurrying
away with them into the bush as fast as possible ; the men also
were tugging at their goats and sheep to hide them in the bush
and woods that surrounded their town, for it was their un-
fortunate experience that the white men who came on steamers
took fowls, goats, and sheep without paying for them.
When we landed we could not see a single person. We
walked up and down the roads calling upon the people to come
out of hiding, to come and talk with us, or sell us some fowls.
After a considerable amount of shouting an old man put his
head round a corner of a house and said : “ W^hite men, if you
want to buy any fowls of us, sit down where you are, and send
your boys ; we will sell to them, but not to you.”
We thereupon handed some looking-glasses, knives, bells,
beads, and cloth to our boys, and told them that after they had
bartered for some fowls they were to try to persuade the
people to have some conversation with us. After buying a few
fowls our lads said : “ Come and talk with our white men.
See, they are perfectly harmless, for they are sitting down
where you told them. They are not bula matadi ( =State officers).
They neither desire to fight you nor tie you up. They are
mindele mia Njambi ( = the white men of God, i.e. missionaries).
Come and palaver with them.”
After much hesitation on the part of the native, and much
persuasion by our lads, the old man drew near to us, and as
he came closer he put out his hand to greet us ; but on seeing
our white hands approaching his, fear took possession of him,
and he drew his hand quickly back. At last, however, we
heartily shook his hand and his courage returned. He then
went over to a large drum, and beating upon it the women
quickly returned from the bush with their children and their
fowls, the men came back with their goats and sheep, and the
town resumed its usual lively appearance.
Directly they learned the purpose of our visit they begged
us to live in their town ; they took us up and down the various
streets, and pointed out all the advantages we should enjoy
29
PEOPLE BECOME FRIENDLY
if we would only build amongst them. We had to allay their
importunity by telling them that we could not decide at
once to live in their midst, as we wished to go higher up the
river and visit other towns and tribes ; but if we found their
town the most central for our work, we would return to them.
And we coneluded by saying : “ We do not desire, wherever we
go in this distriet, that the people should run away from us as
you did ; cannot you therefore lend us one or two of your
young men to go with us to reassure the people ? We promise
to return them safely in due time.”
It was astonishing to us that these nervous, fearful folk
who had run helter-skelter from us about two hours before
should bring two of their young men to us, and in their trustful
simplicity place their hands in ours, saying : “ Here are two
of our people to aeeompany you, and when you have done
with them bring them baek again.”
After that, whenever we arrived opposite a town, these two
men would go into the bows of the steamer and, shouting
loudly to the people ashore, would tell them not to be
afraid, not to run away, that we were good sort of white men,
that we were buying fowls at a very good priee, and if they
only stayed they eould make some profit out of us. For we
were giving the enormous sum of about threepence each in
barter goods for the fowls, instead of the usual price of two-
penee.
Throughout the rest of that district we reeeived a hearty
weleome from the people, and many pressing invitations to
settle in their midst. We had no illusions about these invita-
tions. We fully reeognized that the people desired us to live
in their towns for reasons quite different from those that
aetuated us : our presenee would give prestige to their district,
and especially to the town in which we built ; we should be,
more or less, a guarantee of security, and freedom from the
lootings and raids of State soldiers who were already beginning
to trouble the people on the Upper Congo ; and it would be an
immense advantage to them to be able to exchange their food-
30
DRIVEN AWAY FROM BOKOMELA
stuffs, etc., for barter goods at a store in their neighbourhood,
rather than have such weary journeys to take in their canoes, or
go without the needed articles. We understood perfectly well
that we were not so boisterously invited because of our message,
for of that they knew absolutely nothing, and in their then
savage and ignorant state cared perhaps less than nothing
for it.
Leaving the Bungundu district we steamed for many miles
along a monotonous stretch of forest, and then reached the
thickly populated line of Bokomela towns. Selecting the
largest we could see, we turned our steamer towards it ; and,
putting our pretty little vessel along the beach in front of the
chosen town, we prepared to go ashore. Through our glasses
we had seen the women and children running hurriedly away,
and the bustling activity of the men who lined the bank and
stood on the trees overhanging the river. Just as we were
about to step ashore we noticed that the men lining the bank
above us had raised their spears in a very threatening attitude,
and the old men on the trees had fitted their arrows to their
bows ready to shoot at us. We recognized that we were in a
tight corner ; we wondered where the spears and arrows would
strike us. A false movement would have been misunderstood,
and a shower of sharp weapons would have been the result.
Our pulses raced tumultuously, our hearts seemed to thump
our ribs ; but outwardly we were calm and self-possessed.
We did not know until months later how near we were to a
horrible catastrophe — to being, in fact, the principal dishes at
a cannibal feast.
In the best “ trade language ” we could muster we told the
excited savages who and what we were. “ Go away,” they
screamed, “ or we will kill you. We want nothing to do with
you white men.”
We tried to explain the purpose of our visit, and asked them
to let the Bungundu men land and talk with them. And all
the time we were standing unarmed within twenty feet of
their upraised spears. There was a deadly silence on the little
31
A CORDIAL WELCOME
steamer, and the crew had taken refuge behind any and every
thing that offered protection from those murderous lances and
arrows.
“ Go away,” they shouted more fiercely ; “ we will kill the
men if they come ashore, and all of you afterwards. We’ll
have nothing to do with white men.” And in frantic unison
the excited mob took up the cry of their head-men.
There was nothing for it but to push off our steamer and
leave the place. It was not until we were beyond the reach of
their arrows that we breathed freely, and then fully realizing
the whole meaning of the incident, and its possibilities of death
to us and disaster to our plans, we bowed our heads in prayerful
thanks to God for His protecting care.
Some months after our establishment at Monsembe, I went
down to those districts in a canoe paddled by a few lads ;
and those same Bokomela people, hearing, from the song of
the lads, that one of the Monsembe white men was approaching,
hurried out in their canoes with fowls in their hands as tokens
of their good-will, and begged me to go ashore. What was the
reason for this strange and pleasant change respecting us ?
It was this : In the meantime they had heard of our peaceable
lives and intentions ; of our straightforward and honest dealings
with the natives about us ; that we neither stole things our-
selves, nor allowed our people to steal ; but always bought
what we wanted at a proper market value. These facts coming
to their knowledge had entirely altered their attitude towards
us, and had turned former enemies into would-be friends.
On going ashore they gave me a most cordial welcome, and
when quietness had been restored, I said : “ Some months
ago we came to you on our little steamer, and you drove us
away with murderous threats of spearing us. Why was that ?
We were quiet, peaceable men ; why were you in such a rage ? ”
An oldish man, sitting quietly on a stool near by, arose and
said : “ White man, just before you came to us on your steamer,
the white men on a passing steamer shot our chief and some
of our people for no reason at all. Shot them down while
32
SHOOTING A NATIVE FOR A WAGER
standing quietly on the bank, and for that reason we swore to
kill the next white men that came our way, and you were the
next to come.”
Undoubtedly they would have had their revenge upon us
but that God placed His hand over theirs, so that neither
spear nor arrow was hurled at us. More than once or twice
have we seen the spears poised ready for the throw ; and every
time we have found that some cowardly, dastardly white men
had been before us and, having shot down the natives for no
reason whatever, had gone off and left the next unsuspecting
white men who went that way to bear the brunt of the natives’
mad, but excusable, desire for revenge. Legacies of hatred have
been unfortunately left by too many white men among savage
peoples, who regard all white folk as belonging to one tribe,
and as one or more of their kinsmen have been murdered by
white men, then to retaliate by killing other white men will,
they think, balance the account.
As illustrative of the preceding remarks the following un-
varnished story is unfortunately too d propos : A State steamer
in 1890 was proceeding up a tributary of the Congo, and on
its upper deck two white officers were sitting holding a discus-
sion on marksmanship, when they saw, at some distance in
front of them, a native standing in his canoe paddling it from
one side to the other of the river. The two officers instantly
made a bet as to which of them could knock the man over.
Guns were raised and fired, and Captain X. brought down the
poor unsuspecting wretch and pocketed the stakes ; ^ but he
left a heritage of hate that has lasted to this day, if there are
still alive in that district any relatives of the murdered man,
or witnesses of the foul murder.
It seemed to some of us a righteous retribution when a couple
of years later Captain X. himself was shot by his native attendant,
* In 1890 this incident was common talk in that district. Besides the
two men who laid the wager, there were two other white men on board —
captain of the steamer and the engineer. This incident was more frequently
related as a joke than otherwise.
C 33
1
MONSEMBE DISTRICT
whether aceidentally or purposely nobody knew. Let me say,
onee for all, that among the State offieers there were gentlemen
of fine, sterling character who acted fairly and honourably in
all their dealings with the natives ; men whose ideals were
high, whose motives were good, and who desired nothing better
than the amelioration of the tribes with which they came into
contact. If such men had been in the majority, and had had
a free hand, the pitiful, horrible story of Congo atrocities would
never have been written.
About twenty-five miles above Bokomela we came upon the
Monsembe district. There were three bays crow'ded with
large towns, and only two miles beyond Monsembe was a long
creek teeming wdth people. We reckoned also that Bungundu
and Bokomela districts would come within the sphere of our
influence ; but before fixing on Monsembe as our centre we
went still higher up river to weigh the possibilities of other
places. Town after town we passed of prosperous, healthy,
fierce, and barbarous savages. Very often we were amongst
them and shaking hands with them before they had decided
whether to welcome or fight us ; then seeing two friendly, un-
armed white men in their midst they greeted us heartily and
were soon bartering fowls, plantain, and various food-stuffs
for empty bottles, old meat tins, and Manchester goods.
Diboko (or Nouvelles Anvers) was visited ; and with our
colleagues at Bopoto we spent a pleasant time. At Bumba we
came upon a continuous stretch of villages for nearly two miles
in length. As we steamed close to the bank we observed that
the villages were divided by gullies which were bridged by old
canoe planks. The folk were quiet, and as the place looked
well populated with apparently prosperous people, we decided
to land.
Arriving at the extreme upper end of the series of Bumba
villages, we tied our steamer to a tree on the bank and went
ashore. A few miserable, half-starved dogs barked at us ;
but there was no one to greet us, or object to our landing.
We moved slowly forward, and then we noticed that the virile,
34
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BUMBA PEOPLE
young men, armed with spears and shields, were keeping about
fifty yards ahead of us ; that the old men and the siek were
crouehing over their fires warming their hands and keeping up
a constant chatter ; and that there was an absence of women
and children in the villages. Now when there is an absence of
women and children in an African town or village, you may be
fairly certain that the men are up to mischief, or think a fight
is to the fore. We walked warily to keep ourselves out of any
possible ambush ; and as w'e came to the gullies dividing the
villages we found the planks had been removed, this necessitated
our going down and up the sides of the gullies. Arriving at
the last ditch we started to cross it as we had done the others,
when we observed a rustle in the tall grass on the further side,
and looking closely we saw that the bush was alive with armed
men with spears gripped threateningly. Just beyond them
in the forest were their women and children, and they were
standing between them and possible death or capture as
represented, so they thought, by the two white men on the
opposite side of the gully.
To have run away would have meant a shower of spears
hurtling through the air after us from the excited people, so
we sat down and parleyed with them. “ Did you ever know,”
we asked, “ white men coming to fight without soldiers ? ”
“ No,” was their ready though surly reply.
“ Well, we have no soldiers with us,” was our quick re-
joinder. That was self-evident, for there were only a few of
our personal lads about us.
With a little more hope in our heart of escaping from another
difficult fix, we began again. “ Did you ever know white men
to come and fight without guns and swords ? ” was our next
question.
“ No,” again was their reply. This time a little more
friendliness in their tone, for their fears of a fight were, like
ours, passing away.
“ Well,” we argued, “ we are two white men without guns
or soldiers, but wnth simply walking-sticks in our hands ; and
35
QUIETNESS DISPELS THEIR FEARS
are all your men armed with spears afraid of two white men
with walking-sticks ? Come and put up the bridge and help
us across.”
After a short consultation among themselves, some young
men replaced the plank and helped us over ; and the discreet
distribution of a few beads, spoons, and penny looking-glasses
won for us their eternal good-will.
Our return to the steamer was like a triumphal progress.
The men shouted and danced in very revulsion of feeling to
find it was a friendly visit and not a fight. Plank bridges were
quickly rearranged, and outstretched, willing hands steadied
us as we crossed them. The old and sick who had remained
around the fires good-humouredly chaffed those who had armed
themselves for a battle that never came off. All’s well that
ends well, and the people were as glad as we were that no
blood had been shed and no wrong committed. They begged
us very earnestly to come and live among them.
We went as far as Ngingiri on the River Luika, and then
turned the nose of our steamer down-stream, Monsembe was
the best centre for our work that we had seen in all the long
stretch of river we had traversed above Lulanga. There we
should have ample room for expansion, itineration, and out-
posts along the north bank from Bungundu to Likunungu —
a distance of 200 miles ; we should also have the south
bank in our parish from Bolombo to Bokatalaka Creek — a
stretch of 80 miles ; and the creek just above our proposed
station site was said to communicate with the Mobangi River.
We estimated the population near to Monsembe, among whom
we should be able to itinerate on Sundays, at 7000, and
throughout the district, lining the river, at 50,000 at the
very least. Then there were the hinterland towns, whose
populations were as yet unknown. It was a splendid sphere
of immense possibilities. It was therefore with high hopes and
undaunted hearts that my colleague and I entered upon our
labours among the cannibals of Monsembe.
We returned the men we had borrowed from Bungundu.
36
QUIETNESS DISPELS THEIR FEARS
What a welcome they had on their arrival home ! We had
been absent so long that the folk had almost given up all hope
of ever setting eyes again on their townsmen. They received
a suitable reward, strutted about the town in their fine, brightly-
coloured new cloths, and I suppose ever afterwards posed as
widely travelled men whose words in future were to be taken
on all matters relating to riverine geography, tribal marks,
and other subjects. Leaving Bungundu we crossed to Lulanga
and, picking up the goods we had left there in charge of a Dutch
trader who treated us with much kindness and hospitality,
we returned to our future home at Monsembe, which for the
next fifteen years was to be the centre of our world and the
scene of many joys and sorrows.
37
CHAPTER II
SETTLING AT MONSEMBE
Moral way of procuring land — Ground measured — Price asked — Amount
accepted — Signing the agreement — Buying a house — An exorbitant
price — A house for five shillings and a penny — Well-populated hut —
Making ourselves comfortable — Cooking difficulties overcome — Present
of two goats — Inveterate thieves — Afraid of our “books.”
HE authorities of the Congo Free State had informed us
that we could take possession of any plot of land in the
district that we cared to select. We did not, however,
believe in accepting from a State that which they had no
moral right to give, but in buying from the people the ground
they only had a right to sell us for our station. A few hours
after our return to Monsembe we measured out a piece of land
one hundred paces along the river front by three hundred paces
deep, and said that in the morning we would buy it of them.
Next morning at six o’clock we found a large crowd gathered
to witness the novel transaction of buying and selling land.
They formed a motley assemblage. Most of the men had
two or more spears gripped tightly in their hands, and broad-
bladed, ugly knives of various shapes were strapped in sheaths
around their chests with the handles level with the breast-bone.
Some wore gaudy cloths, while others had bark-cloth or rags
that scarcely covered their nakedness. The women were
dressed in petticoats made from palm fibres, and these fringes
were so numerous and short that the wearers had every appear-
ance of black ballet girls. Their faces were streaked with
different coloured pigments, or dusted with camwood powder ;
38
MORAL WAY OF PROCURING LAND
and their bodies were rubbed with palm-oil. Beneath the
paint, the powder, and the grease one found agreeable faces
often lit up with really pleasant smiles.
We asked them how much they wanted for the piece of
land, and without hesitation they replied, “ Five thousand
brass rods.”
“ No,” we said, “ we cannot pay you so large a sum as
that, but we will give you one thousand rods now, and another
five hundred in six months’ time, if you behave yourselves.”
The head-men consulted apart for a time, and then their
spokesman said : “We will accept your offer of one thousand
rods now and another five hundred in six months’ time, if
you will put on top some bottles, some knives, spoons, tin
plates, looking-glasses, forks, cowries, beads, cloth, fish-
hooks,” etc. etc., in fact samples of everything they had
either ever heard about or could recall to mind at so short a
notice.
Unfortunately for them we had not such a variety of barter
goods as they demanded, and we frankly told them so ; but
we promised to add some of the articles we did have with
us. We cut and counted out the thousand rods,^ tied them up
in bundles of one hundred each, and then raked out two
empty pickle bottles from our store and, putting some fathoms
of cloth, a packet of brass chair nails, a few iron spoons, some
* Brass rods. A brass rod at Monsembe at that time was 15 inches long,
and not quite so thick as a slate pencil. These rods were the currency of
the district and, in fact, of the whole of the Upper Congo. Everything
had its price in brass rods — one egg = one brass rod ; a fowl = ten brass rods ;
two yards of cloth = twenty brass rods ; a male slave = 600 brass rods ; and
a female slave = 2500 brass rods. The brass wire for these rods was origi-
nally melted down for their brass ornaments — anklets, necklaces, armlets,
leg rings, hafts of spears, paddles, and handles of knives, etc. It was using
the brass for this purpose that first gave it any real value to them ; and
then they exchanged certain lengths of the brass wire at a fixed price—
so many fathoms for a goat, etc. ; and gradually the lengths of brass wire
became the medium of exchange, the imit of value, the currency of the
country. In 1890 the brass rods still retained their value not so much as a
medium of barter, although they were convenient for that purpose, but as
the metal from which they made their most popular ornaments. It is quite
39
SIGNING THE AGREEMENT
trade knives, a dozen zinc-framed looking-glasses, a few
empty meat tins, the ground became the property of our
Society for about 38s. worth of goods, reckoning them at
invoice price.
We then thought it wise to draw up a paper stating we
had bought the land of the people, the price we had given,
and the amount we had promised in six months’ time. The
document was duly written out, and my colleague and I signed
it on behalf of the B.M.S. We then asked two of their head-
men to put their marks against their names on the paper as
witnesses to the fact that we had purchased the ground, so
that there could not be any future possible dispute about our
possession of the site.
At first they demurred greatly to having anything to do with
the white man’s “ book ” ; they were extremely superstitious
about the matter ; it was something uncanny, and for all they
knew some mysterious evil might be the result of touching
that “ book.” It needed much persuasion, and it was only
when we pointed out to them that they would have no proof
that we owed them five hundred rods that their cupidity
overcame their fears, and they consented to put their
marks.
Mata Bombo was the first head-man chosen for this onerous
duty. He was the oldest head-man in the town, and had been
possible that the rods changed hands in fathom lengths, and those who came
into possession of these lengths, each cut off a little piece to procure a bit
of brass for nothing, and hence the length was gradually shortened, until
in 1890 it was 15 inches. The process of shortening continued, and in 1905
the standard length was only 11 inches. In Bolobo it was about 9J inches,
and on the Lower Congo, where brass wire was used long before it filtered
through to the tribes on the Upper Congo, it was from four to five inches
only in 1905. Of course, with the shortening of the rod, a larger number
was given for the article to be purchased. Every white man imported his
brass wire in coils, and cut the rod to the length used in the district where
he resided. Brass rods are now almost a drug in the market, for not only
have they been poured into the country in a steady stream for the last thirty
years, but the custom of melting down brass for the manufacture of orna-
ments has been slowly dying out during the last ten years. They desire
other things than simply ornaments now.
40
BUYING A HOUSE
foremost in the negotiations for the land, in counting the goods,
and most clamorous for his share of them. The people there-
fore rightly thought that he should be the first to undertake the
unpleasant duty of putting his mark on the “ book,” so they
laughingly pushed him forward much against his will. When
he reached the table he was trembling all over from very fear
of that “ book ” lying there upon it. His hand shook so much
that I had to put my hand upon his and help him to make his
mark. On finishing it he put the pen down Avith a dab, drew
himself to his full height, carefully stretched out his arms, and
finding that nothing had happened to him, he went away
apparently satisfied that it was possible to have contact with
that mysterious “ book ” of the white man’s and not suffer
for it. The next witness was a much younger man, who,
seeing that nothing had happened to the first, came forward
without any urging, picked up the pen, made his mark and
went his way as though he were used to signing contracts every
day of his life. Thus the land became ours on behalf of our
Society.
Having settled about the site, our next requirement was a
house into which we could move our goods from the steamer,
and in which we could live, for it was necessary that the Peace
should return immediately to Bolobo. Looking over the ground
we had bought, we saw a native hut that would suit us until
we could build a larger and better one. We had purchased the
land and the trees upon it ; but we had arranged with the
people that all the houses on our newly acquired site should
be removed. To them this was a trifling affair : they ran a
knife along a few strings, a dozen men got under the roof, and
in a few minutes you would see it walking down the road ; a
few more men shook the walls, uprooted the posts, and in an
hour or so the house was rebuilt on another site.
We called the owner of the house that we thought would
temporarily answer our purpose, and asked him how much he
wanted for it. “ Five hundred brass rods,” was his quick reply.
Natives generally ask about two or three times the value of
41
AN EXORBITANT PRICE
an article, and I fancy this custom is not altogether peculiar
to African people.
“ That is too much,” was our answer to his extravagant
demand. “ We will give you two hundred rods for the house,
and then you will be well paid.”
He cogitated on our offer for a few minutes, and then lifting
his head, he said : “ If you put a tin plate on top of the two
hundred rods you can have the house.” So we paid him tw'o
hundred brass rods, and a penny tin plate ; and for the first
time in our lives became the owners of house property.
Directly we had paid the price the man called his wives
(he was the happy (?) possessor of six) to remove their belong-
ings, They brought out their saucepans, hoes, baskets, mats,
drinking-pots, firewood, and the rest of their miscellaneous
effects ; the man carried out his paddles, spears, knives, shield,
and a few precious glass bottles that had contained pickles,
lime-juice, and drinks of stronger brew, and then told us the
house was ready for us.
We really could not expect a mansion for the amount we
had paid, viz. 5s. Id. ; and we found that in order to enter it
we had to stoop low, lift our feet high, and, being unfortunately
stout, we had to turn sideways to effect an entry. Arriving
inside, by putting up the hand we could touch the ridge-pole,
by spreading out the arms and swaying slightly we could touch
both walls, a few paces took us from one end to the other of
the central room, and if we had gone against the wall and
w'anted to stand upright we should have had to put our heads
through the roof, for the walls were only just four feet high.
The house, however, had the advantage of two small rooms —
one at either end of the larger central room. In one of these
small rooms we stored our tools, nails, and various materials
for building our station ; into the other small room we put our
barter goods and our scanty stock of provisions ; and in the
central room we arranged our two camp bedsteads, a table,
a trunk or two, our chairs, and when we went in ourselves there
was not very much room to spare. That night when we went
42
Photo by} [rt Dutch Trader
Group of Mobeka Men
Mobeka is situated at the mouth of the Mungala River, and the inhabitants ot that and many other
villages in the vicinity belong to the Boloki tribe.
Photo by} [Pev. P. H. Kirkland
Looking up Lake Libinza from Bosisera
Lake Libinza is a large sheet of water in the hinterland of Nouvelles Anvers. It is studded with
numerous islands, and is drained by the Ngiri River, which runs into the Mobangi tributary.
MAKING OURSELVES COMFORTABLE
to bed we discovered that although the women had removed
their pots, hoes, mats, etc., they had left behind them a large
population which we wished they had also taken with them.
To make our hut more habitable was our first object. We
cut away the high door-sill of sticks, canes, and grass ; then
in the eaves above the doorway we made a gap in the roof by
shortening a few rafters and removing the palm-frond thatch
— this gave us an easy means of entrance and exit. Then we
placed two poles about eight feet from the front of our hut,
and six feet from each other ; a small pole was tied to the posts
about six feet from the ground, and other thin poles were run
from the cross-piece to the roof, and on these we arranged and
tied a large number of fronds from a small species of palm tree
— this gave us a fine shady porch to our house, which we used
as dining-room, study, pantry, and reception-room. We
routed out a good percentage of the surplus population from
our hut, and on fine days we were not so uncomfortable as to
have any real ground for complaint.
But alas on wet days ! The discomfort of them has left
a lasting impression on my memory. With a tornado the
temperature often dropped from 90° down to 65° in less
than two hours ; the strong, stormy winds whistled through
the grass walls of our hut ; and the rain that fell in
torrents percolated through our roof, and in some places,
along the ridge especially, it ran in gentle cascades, anything
but pleasant to the owners of such house property to behold.
To have made a fire in the house to warm ourselves, as the
natives did, would have meant being more than half choked and
blinded by the smoke that would have filled the chimneyless
house. We eventually found that the best way to weather the
storms comfortably was to lie on our camp beds, pull a water-
proof sheet over us, light a candle, and putting it on a dry
spot read until the tornado had spent itself.
There was another difficulty that we had to meet, viz.
cooking. It was easy enough to boil and fry our food ; but
boiled meat and fowls after a few weeks somewhat pall ; and
43
COOKING DIFFICULTIES OVERCOME
we had not sufficient fat or lard to fry much. There was palm-
oil in abundance to be bought for a few brass rods, but we had
too frequently watched the natives make it to relish food fried
in it. We therefore bought two native saucepans for a penny
each ; these were about 10 inches in diameter, 6 inches deep,
and semicircular in shape. One we stood on three stones,
placed an empty sardine tin in the bottom, and, laying a fowl
on a tin dish, arranged it on the sardine tin, and then turned the
second saucepan upside down on the first, fitting their edges
together. Our fowls baked beautifully in this improvised oven ;
but the saucepan had a tendency to crack.
Later on we procured an empty paraffin-oil drum, cut out
the top with a hammer and chisel, laid the drum down, and
put in a layer of clay along the bottom side. This clay not
only gave us a level surface on which to stand our dishes, but
also kept the food from burning, and retained the heat. We
then nailed some tin, procured by flattening out a few empty
meat tins, over some pieces of wood, and there we had an
admirable door for our new oven. It cooked fowls, puddings,
and bread^ splendidly. No patent has yet been sought for these
inventions, so all those placed in a similar predicament are free
to use them.
Fowls were plentiful, such as they were ; but fresh meat
(beef, mutton, or goat) was a rarity. Consequently we were
not at all sorry when two head-men brought us, one day, a goat
each as a present. Up to that time we had not received a single
present from them, not because the natives had not brought
any to us — they would have loaded us with their so-called
gifts — but we had persistently refused them on principle, know-
ing as we did that the offerings were simply presented that the
givers might receive two or three times their value in return
presents, and we had no desire to foster such a spirit of selfish-
ness, and no money to waste on foolish amenities. We had
refused so many “ gifts ” that when these two head-men brought
their goats and offered one to Mr. Stapleton and the other to
’ See Appendix, Note 1, p. 335.
44
PRESENT OF TWO GOATS
myself, we decided to accept them. We had, however, no en-
closure in which to keep goats, so putting a private mark on
them we sent them to herd with the other goats of the town.
We arranged that as the goats were of the same size, we
would give exactly the same return presents. We reckoned the
goats at fifty brass rods each — the market value of them ; but
we decided to give in barter goods the equivalents of one hun-
dred rods each, which we thought was sufficiently generous for
the occasion.
Mr. Stapleton called Dintela, the head-man who had pre-
sented him with his goat, and spreading out the goods he
made the usual speech of good-will, etc., that the event de-
manded.
Dintela gave him to understand that the present was too
small, that white men who were so rich should give a much
larger quantity of goods, and that he could not accept such a
paltry present. As Mr. Stapleton would not increase the
offering, Dintela demanded the return of the goat, and tying
a string round its neck he led it away, much disgusted that he
had not made so good a bargain out of his present to the white
man as he had anticipated.
A few days later as Bololi, the head-man who had given me
the other goat, was passing across the station I called him into
the house, and spreading out the goods identically the same
as my colleague had offered to his head-man, I asked him to
accept them as a token of our friendliness, etc., in return for
his goat. He made some gestures expressive of his depreciation
of the gift, and after a haggling attempt to procure an increase
of goods, he, to my surprise in view of the action of Dintela,
collected the articles, put them in his shoulder pouch, and went
off apparently satisfied. The next day when we wanted to kill
the goat it had disappeared, and we never again set eyes upon
it. Dintela refused the goods and took his goat away ; but
evidently they had talked over the matter with the other men
in the town, and the result was that Bololi accepted the articles
and afterwards stole the goat, which in the eyes of the natives
45
INVETERATE THIEVES
was much the smarter action of the two. After this, when head-
men were too pressing in their offers of friendly presents, we
related the story of the two goats, and it never failed to cure
them of their fits of generosity.
We found them at that time, as the above incident of the
goats indieates, most inveterate thieves ; but a few years
later when three young men of the town broke into our store
and stole goods to the value of sixteen thousand brass rods, the
mass of the people arose in sueh indignation on learning the
facts that they tied up the thieves, although they were free
men and not slaves, and, bringing them to us ignominiously
bound, laid them at our feet. And public opinion was so un-
mistakable in denouncing the act, that the young men and their
families disgorged the whole of what they had stolen from us
to the last brass rod.
At first they absolutely refused to trust us even with the
value of an egg — we had to put the price in their hands as we
took the article ; but gradually they became less suspicious
of us. During the early months at Monsembe our steamer
failed to arrive at the expeeted time, consequently our small
supply of barter goods became exhausted ; and to be without
these articles of exchange in such a country was like being a
foreigner in a strange land without money. Food, however,
was necessary, both for ourselves and those dependent on us.
We told the natives that our store was practically empty, and
that we eould not pay them then, but would do so when we
received our goods from down-river. We offered them papers
stating what we had bought, the price agreed upon, the date,
and the seller’s name — a kind of promissory note which we
promised to redeem on the arrival of our steamer.
The natives said : “ We will let you have the food supplies
that you need, but we will not accept your books.” They
called any piece of paper at that time a “ book.”
“ Why will you not take our books ? ” we inquired ; “ for we
may forget how much we owe, and to whom we owe it.”
“ Oh, you will not forget your debts,” they replied ; “ and if
46
AFRAID OF OUR “BOOKS”
there were any fear of that we should not even then accept
your books, but should refuse to let you have the food without
the money.”
“ Why will you not take our books, then ? ” we again asked
in amazement.
“ Well,” they said, “ if we were to accept your books, and
put them in our houses, no rain would fall on our farms, and we
should all be starved to death.”
Argue as we would, we could not move them from their
superstitious position in relation to our poor little pieces of
paper. By that time they knew our intentions towards them
were good, or they would not have trusted us with their fowls,
eggs, plantain, and native bread without receiving the barter
goods at once, yet they were afraid of the evil effects our
“ books ” would have on their farms. They thought the magic
was in the “ book,” and in spite of our good motives that that
magic would work against them directly the “ books ” had passed
from us into their possession. While the “ books ” were in our
house we controlled or nullified their evil magic, but when they
had passed out of our hands we had no further power over their
wicked forces, and the natives were afraid of not being able to
counteract their black art, hence their continued refusal to
accept them. It was a curious belief that obsessed them :
that men who they firmly believed were kindly disposed to-
wards them should yet have in their possession such “ books ”
as would work mischief to those for whom they had nothing
but friendly feelings. We therefore entered their names in a
notebook as we bought the food supplies, and thus keeping an
account of what money we owed, and to whom, we were able
to settle our accounts with them at a later date.
47
CHAPTER III
STRUGGLES WITH THE LANGUAGE
“ Trade ” and “ Bangala ” languages — Making a vocabulary — Housekeeper
and master of works — Natives tell us words — Elements of difficulty —
Glib translations — Natives deceive us — Head-men offer us wines — We
are a conundrum to our neighbours— Confidence gained at last— Collect
nearly seven thousand root words — A mode of making derivations —
Native figures of speech.
N the main river there was a mixed language, commonly
called among us the “ trade language ” ; by means of
this lingua franca we were able to make ourselves
understood at the various places at which we touehed on our
search for a new site, and it stood us in good stead during our
early days among the Monsembe people. There was a large
element of Bobangi in it, some Kiswahili words, and a few
Lower Congo words and phrases. This “ trade language ” has
now been supplanted by what is called the “ Bangala language,”
which is a mixture of the languages already mentioned, with a
smattering of Bangala words thrown in.
For a considerable time Diboko (Nouvelles Anvers), or as
it is most frequently called by white men generally when speak-
ing to natives, Bangala, was the largest State station above
Stanley Pool. A large number of natives were imported there
from all the tribes on the Upper Congo, and this heterogeneous
mass of humanity, often numbering over two thousand soldiers,
workmen, and women, held communieation with each other
by means of the “ trade language.” The smartest of the natives
in the towns adjaeent to Diboko quickly learned this jargon,
and used it more or less fluently when communicating with the
48
MAKING A VOCABULARY
State soldiers and workmen ; and the white men hearing the
natives of the neighbourhood talking this lingo jumped to the
eonelusion that it was their own tongue in whieh they were
conversing, and thus ealled it the Bangala language, and by
that name it is now generally known on the Upper Congo.
As it was with the “ trade language ” so it is with the
“ Bangala ” ; it varies considerably with the tribe using it. A
Bobangi man when in difficulty for a word or phrase while
speaking “ Bangala ” will fill up the hiatus with a word from
his mother-tongue ; the Bangalas, Bopoto, and Bosoko peoples
will fill up the gaps, each from their own language, so that the
“ Bangala ” spoken differs according to the district in which
the traveller may be sojourning. A crew running a steamer, or
a gang of men working on a station, though they may come
from half a dozen different tribes, will quickly arrange a lingo
of their own, and the white man running the steamer, or in
charge of the station, will easily acquire the resulting patter,
and up to a certain point make himself fairly well understood
in all matters relating to the ordinary affairs of steamer or
station life. In the near future there will be, no doubt, a
language formed by a gradual selection of words and phrases
from all the great languages on the river from Stanley Pool
to Stanley Falls. Such a means of intercommunication will be
a great boon to all concerned — black and white alike — a better
understanding will result, and, as a consequence, a greater
respect for each other.
Directly we settled at Monsembe we began to learn the
language of the people amongst whom we were living. The
“ trade language ” was all that was necessary to a passer-by ;
it answered the purpose of bartering for food and dealing with
the trivialities of life ; but was absolutely inadequate for con-
veying our message as missionaries, or for dealing with the
finer and deeper affairs of the minds, hearts, and souls of our
parishioners. We had therefore to learn the language, and we
had no desire to shirk the drudgery, nor avoid the arduous,
persistent effort such a study demanded, for we regarded
49
D
NATIVES TELL US WORDS
it as a part of our work, and not the least interesting part
either.
My colleague, Mr. Stapleton, and I arranged that one should
take charge of the house, buy the food brought for sale, and
prepare the meals ; while the other should look after the work-
men, clear the grass away, mark out the ground, collect
materials for building, and start the erection of a larger and
more comfortable house than our poor hut. We were to alter-
nate these duties — one was to be housekeeper one week, and
head of the works department the next week.
As I had been in the country nine years the heavier end of
the stick fell naturally to my lot. I had brought two men
and a lad with me from the Lower Congo, one Cameroons man
capable of doing rough carpentry had joined us at Bolobo, and
we had hired two men at Lukolele, so we had some help ; but
more was necessary, and we were able to engage a few natives
— as many as we required — at twenty rods per month as pay,
five rods per week rations, and one fathom of cloth per month
to wear, which came in all to about two shillings, invoice price.
This seems very small, but we were in the heart of Africa where
brass rods and cloth were worth, at that period, many times
their invoice value, for their buying power was very great,
and food was so plentiful and cheap that 12 lbs. of native bread
could be bought for a single brass rod, and a large-size fish for
another rod. The men often requested that we would reduce
their ration rods and proportionately increase their monthly
pay, which we did.
While we were digging the holes for the posts of our larger
house, the natives who were curiously watching us, said :
“ Oh, to do that sort of thing,” imitating a scooping action
with the words, “is tima.” So we wrote down tima=to dig;
when we had finished the hole, they said it was, “ lifoko,^' hence
we put down lifoko =ho\e ; when we procured a post, they told
us its name was mwete, and that we recorded as mwete=ak
post ; on standing the post in the hole they informed us that
that was suma mwete, and we wrote that down as suma mwete =
GO
ELEMENTS OF DIFFICULTY
to stand a post in a hole. When we placed the wall-plate on
they gave us a word for that ; when we brought hammer and
nails out of our tool-house they acquainted us with the names
for those things ; when we hammered a nail to hold the wall-
plate in position they gave us an expression for nailing ; and
if by any accident we hit our finger instead of the nail, they
found a suitable expletive for that action also. Night by night
my colleague and I added the words together we had pro-
cured during the day and counted them as eagerly as
any miser might his gold, for we recognized in them a
means by which we should eventually be able to deliver our
message.
It was very difficult to acquire words for abstract ideas, as
courage, faith, love, recklessness, etc. ; and it was not easy to
procure words for tangible objects — things that we could point
to and touch. I remember on one occasion wanting the word
for table. There were five or six boys standing around, and
tapping the table with my forefinger I asked : “ What is
this ? ” One boy said it was dodela, another that it was
etanda, a third stated it was bokali, a fourth that it was elamha,
and the fifth said it was meza. These various words we wrote
in our notebook, and congratulated ourselves that we were
working among a people who possessed so rich a language that
they had five words for one article.
By and by we wanted a table brought to us, and selecting
a word at random from our list of five words, each one of which
we supposed meant table, we said : “ Benga bokali ”=fetch the
table. The boys looked at us with considerable astonishment,
and, noticing their embarrassment, we checked the list of words
and found that one lad had thought we wanted the word for
tapping, so he told us dodela— to tap ; another understood we
were seeking the word for the material of which the table was
made, and he gave us etanda=p\ank ; another had an idea that
we required the word for hardness, that which caused the noise
as we tapped with our finger, and he told us bokali, and that is
what we had told them to bring : benga bokali— Ittch. the hard-
51
EXAMPLE OF OUR DIFFICULTIES
ness, a feat they could not possibly accomplish ; another thought
we wished for a name for that which covered the table, and his
contribution was elamha— cloth. ; and the last lad, not being
able, perhaps, to think of anything else, gave us the word
meza= table — the very word we were seeking. We had to
scratch out the first four Avords, leave the word meza, and pass
on, having learned a good lesson on the evil results of jumping
too quickly to conclusions. If the reader knows no German,
and should ever happen to be in the company of some five or
six Germans who do not understand a single word of English,
let him ask : “ What is this ? ” in indifferent German, and
write down their several answers.
In learning and reducing to writing an unwritten language
there are always several elements that inerease and com-
plicate the difficulties. There is what is in your own mind as
the object for which you are seeking a word, and there is what
the native thinks is the object for which you are wanting the
word, which two things may be very different ; again, when
you are searching for a word to embody an abstract quality
there is, on the one hand, the meaning you attach to the words
you use as illustrative of the idea for which you want the word ;
and there is, on the other hand, the meaning which your nati^’e
lad attaches to the words you employ, and the two sets of
meanings may wadely vary. You may unknowingly employ a
wrong phrase in your deseription of the quality you are wanting
a word to express, and your teaeher is either puzzled or thrown
entirely off the scent, and the result leads to a disastrous mis-
take and, unless corrected later, to a false, misleading transla-
tion. Suppose you want a word for healthiness ; you say that
a man walks well every day, paddles for long distanees without
fatigue, eats his food heartily, has no pains in his body, and
never needs to go to a medicine-man. “ What do you call
that ? ” Your helper will consider for a moment, and then
reply : “ Abe na bonganga.”
By and by you go over the description with another person,
and he says of such a man : “ Abe na nkonjo” A few days later,
52
EXAMPLE OF OUR DIFFICULTIES
in order to check the former teachers, you try another young
man, and he tells you : “ Abe na nkasu"
In due time, however, you discover that ahe na bonganga
means : he has a powerful charm ; that abe na nkonjo=he has
good luck ; and abe na nkasu=he is very strong ; and that
nkuli is the proper word for healthiness.
Your helpers have not purposely led you astray, for they
have simply stated from their point of view how they would
regard such a fortunate man who can walk, paddle, eat well,
has no pains in his body, and never needs medicine — he must
possess a powerful charm, or have wonderful luck, or be ex-
ceedingly strong. When you know the natives better you find
they rarely talk about their health, hence abe na nkuli=he has
healthiness, would not come readily to their minds.
The difference between our point of view and that of our
teachers accounts for many of the difficulties we experience in
learning a native language ; and I am afraid that a real ap-
preciation of those difficulties has rendered me somewhat
suspicious of those travellers who, after a very short acquaint-
ance with the native language, translate glibly their interviews
with the people. Just recently I have been reading a book on
the Congo in which the following occurs : “ Bikei yonsono,
malami be na Mputu. Sola e koye” This the author, who
frequently takes credit to himself for his knowledge of the
native language, translates as follows : “ All I say is true, you
say I lie. It is finished. I have seen those things ; you have
not.” Whereas it should be : All things are very good in
Mputu (white man’s country). Truly friend ! And the sentence
in Bangala should have been written : Bike binso bilamu
be na Mputu. Solo koije ! No Congo native would have
been guilty of the grammatical blunders perpetrated in the
sentence as written by the author. I have frequently noticed
that the less a person knows about a native language the more
fluently and beautifully he will translate it, as he is bound
only by the limitations of his own imagination.
When we had been living at Monsembe a few months we
53
NATIVES DECEIVE US
were much vexed and disgusted to find that the people had
been deceiving us considerably over their language. One day,
while working with the men, I heard a native workman shout
out a request to another native labourer. From the nature of
the work being done I could easily guess what the phrase
really meant ; but the wording of the sentence was entirely
different from that w'hich they had given us to express the
same idea. Going into the house, I brought out my notebook
and said : “ Just now you called out so and so,” repeating
the short sentence that was still fresh in my memory. “ How
is it we have another set of words in our book ? ”
A broad smile gradually spread over the native’s face as he
replied : “ White man, when you came first to live amongst
us we could not understand the purpose of your coming. We
brought you rubber and ivory ; but you said, ‘ We do not
trade in such things.’ We then brought you male and female
slaves, and asked you to buy them, and you replied, ‘ We do
not trade in slaves.’ We then brought you a large jar of sugar-
cane wine, but you said that you did not drink wine, and
we answered that we would drink it for you, and even then
you would not buy it. After that we came to the conclusion
that there was some wicked reason for your presence in our
tow'll, some bad purpose we could not understand, and we
therefore arranged among ourselves not to teach you our
language, but to tell you as many words and phrases as we
could belonging to other languages.”
We found they had kept their agreement far too well, and
as a result we discovered that a large percentage of the words
that we counted as good coin of the realm w'ere nothing but
base metal, and had to be thrown out of our notebook as utterly
useless. Undoubtedly our presence was a great mystery to the
natives. They could easily understand the reasons why traders
and State officers were living in the country ; but why men
who neither traded nor governed should live in their midst
w'as a problem discussed repeatedly around their evening fires.
They had asked us more than once : “ Were you bad men in
54
HEAD-MEN OFFER US WIVES
your country that you had to leave it to come and live here
in this land ? ” Or : “ Is there no food in your country that
you come here and buy only fowls and vegetables of us ? ”
Fowls were plentiful and very cheap, costing us often less than
twopence each, and as it was the only fresh meat we could
procure regularly, scarcely a day passed without our having
a fowl for dinner, hence the point and purpose of their ques-
tion. These inquiries we answered as fully as we could ; but,
notwithstanding our replies, we remained a puzzle to our neigh-
bours and the subjects of many a long and heated talk.
One day some of the head-men came to us, and after solemnly
taking their seats on the stools their wives had brought for the
purpose, they said ; “ White men, we have come to talk a
palaver with you.”
Our minds quickly ran over our actions during the last few
days, for we wondered what offence we had committed to
cause such a visit from so many serious-looking head-men. We
could not recall any action or any words that were likely to
have given umbrage to the natives, so we waited to hear from
their lips of some breach of etiquette of which, all unknowingly,
we had been guilty.
Old Mata Bombo, a tall, straight man of over sixty years,
was spokesman for the deputation. “ We have noticed,” he
said, “ that you have no wives, and we think it would be well
for you two white men to marry two of our women ; and we
have brought some from which you can make your selection.”
And as he finished speaking he pointed to a row of giggling
girls and women, who while he was talking had lined up a few
yards away.
As seriously as we could, w'e expressed our thanks for their
concern on our behalf, and also for their generosity in giving
us such a fine array from w'hich to choose our wives ; but
continuing, I said : “ I have a wife in Mputu (white man’s
country) ; and my friend, Mr. Stapleton, has a lady there
waiting to become his wife as soon as he returns home. We
cannot therefore accept your offer.”
56
WE ARE A CONUNDRUM
“ That is no difficulty,” they all answered in chorus. “ You
can marry two of these now, and when your white wives come
you can send these back to their families, and there will be no
palaver.”
We, however, persisted in declining with thanks, and at last
it dawned upon them that we were quite serious in our re-
fusal. The head-men went off in a huff, as they expected to
make some profit out of the alliance ; and the women moved
away chagrined that their charms had had so little effect on
us, and, possibly, they were also vexed by the knowledge that
they would be, for many a day to come, the butts of much
ridicule and chaff from the other w'omen of the town and dis-
trict.
Doubtless this incident added much to the problem concern-
ing us that was exercising the native mind. Here are two
strong, healthy white men, rich like other white men (the
poorest white man is a millionaire in the eyes of the natives),
building houses in our town, working hard from sunrise to
sunset, refusing our ivory, and rubber, our slaves, our women,
and our drink. What are they ? They say they have “ come
to tell us about God.” But would white men leave home,
wives, family, and work in the sun as they do just to tell us
about God ? They say they have “ come to help us, to teach
us many things and to do us good ” ; and they offer us medicine
when we are sick. How can they help us ? What can they
teach us ? How will they do us good ? And as for their medicine,
who would be foolish enough to drink it ? It might bewitch
us. Such were the questions surging through their minds (as
we learned later) ; and there was no one sufficiently in their
confidence to help to the proper solution of this difficult
conundrum. Is it any wonder that they came to the conclusion
that we were bad men living in their district for some ulterior
motive ; and the best way to treat us was to humour us in
building, keep their eyes alert to thwart any wicked designs,
avoid teaching us their language, which we seemed particu-
larly eager to learn, and in the meantime make as much money
56
COLLECT ROOT WORDS
out of US as they could, either by fair or dishonest means, it
did not matter which ?
Many of these thoughts we surmised from their actions, but
their whole course of reasoning we did not fully learn until
very many months had passed away, in faet, not until we had
gained their entire eonfidenee. In the meantime we tried, in
our poor way, to live the life of our Master, Jesus Christ,
among our barbarous neighbours, and their suspicions about
us gradually melted away. They would come and chat freely
with us, and by and by it was no uncommon thing to have
three or four lads sitting with us teaching us their language and
helping us to a right understanding of the rules that govern
it ; and men passing by would stop, and, listening to the lads
for a time, aid in elucidating some knotty point. Patience,
love, and straight dealing won their confidence, their dis-
interested assistance, and at last their love.
Eventually, by the help of the people — old and young, for
all became interested in the work — we were able to collect
close upon seven thousand root words which, 'with their
derivatives, give us a voeabulary of nearly forty thousand
words.
These derivatives are produced by very regular rules, which
when once understood, the learner possesses the key to a large
treasury of words, e.g. ;
Verb. Tula. To do smithing.
Der. Noun. Motuli. A smith.
„ „ Motuliji. One who causes the smithing to be
done, a master.
,, ,, Motuleliji. One who eauses smithing to be done
for another, a foreman.
„ ,, Ntula. The smithing peculiar to one smith, as
distinct from that of another smith
— his mode of smithing.
57
A MODE OF MAKING DERIVATIVES
Der. Noun.
Lituli
The kind of smithing needed by one
article as distinct from that required
by another.
yy
99
Botula.
Skill or ability in smithing.
9 9
Etuli.
The article worked upon.
)>
99
Etulela.
Habit of smithing.
99
99
Etuleli.
Instrument with which to do smithing.
99
99
Motula.
A smithing, e.g. Atuli motula, literally,
he smiths a smithing, i.e. he works
at smithing.
99
99
Litulele.
A place for smithing = a workshop,
smithy.
99
99
Motuleli.
One who does smithing for another, an
employee at smithing.
Another set of derivatives is made from the reversive form
of the word, as kanga=to tie, mokangi—a tier, kangola=to
untie, mokangoli= an untier ; and this reversive form can give
us derivatives built on its idea, as from kangolela=to untie for
another, comes mokangoleli= one who unties for another ; and
from the causative kangolija=to cause to untie, comes mokango-
liji=one who causes to untie ; and, again, from the causative
of its prepositional form kangolelija=to cause to untie some-
thing for someone, comes mokangoleliji = one who causes a
person to untie something for or on behalf of another.
One could mention the stative and the passive forms of
the verb with their respective prepositional and causative
suffixes, each supplying their own series of derivatives ; but I
fear the reader would weary of them, and the student of
African languages has now at his disposal many grammars of
Bantu tongues that will fully satisfy his love for comparative
language study. My only desire in these few paragraphs is to
show that the natives of the Congo do not talk a gibberish like
a lot of monkeys, but have at their disposal a magnificent
58
NEW WORD-PHRASES
language that excites the admiration of every student. And it
will be seen that such complex languages are not to be mastered
in a few weeks or months by any globe-trotter who has a fancy
for African travel, for they demand time and constant study to
appreciate their finesse, and special linguistic ability to master
their details and accurately define the words collected, and the
various derivatives discovered.
It must not be thought that for every verb all the various
derivatives can be found, as for obvious reasons some deriva-
tives are not required from some verbs, and other derivatives
are not required from other verbs, e.g. the reversive verb
tulola— to undo smithing, can be built on tula=to do smithing ;
but as such an idea as to undo smithing is ridiculous, hence no
derivatives founded on the reversive form tulola are to be met
with in the language. Smithing can be spoilt, and for that they
have a word, but when once a knife is forged it cannot be un-
forged, i.e. it cannot be returned to iron ore like a knot that
can be untied and the string resume its original form.
Neither do the natives add to every verb all the prefixes and
suffixes that can grammatically be affixed to them. It is very
apparent that some verbs are complicated with causative, pre-
positional, tense, and other forms, and it is necessary to know
for what the polysyllabic word stands as a phrase, as there is no
time to dissect it while a speech is in progress. This is what I
think the native does. He has no words for the parts of speech
as we have in grammar, he does not know that bakamokangelela
ntaba nxinga is made up of the nominative pronominal prefix
6a=they, the present tense progressive ka=ing, the objective
pronominal prefix mo = him, the verb kanga=tie, the two
prepositional suffixes ela = tor, and eZa=^vith (the “a” elides
before “e”), and two objective nouns 7itaba=goa.t, and
nxinga— string ; but he knows that bakamokangelela ntaba
nxinga means “ they are tying the goat for him with string.”
And if you, as a white man, while speaking and translating,
try to make new polysyllabic words by a new combination of
prefixes and suffixes, then you confuse your hearers (or readers)
59
AN ALLITERATIVE LANGUAGE
to such an extent that they do not readily follow you. You
will have to edueate them to a proper understanding of your
new phrases, as English folk had to learn Carlyle’s picture-
phrases a generation ago before they eould appreciate their
force and beauty.
It seems that in the course of time the various dialects have
become more or less stereotyped in the use of eertain verbal
suffixes, and if a speaker now creates new combinations the
hearers do not at once follow him ; or it may be that at some
period in the past when a dialect was in the making the minds
of the people were very active, and the combinations they
formed are fixed and remembered, and no new ones are being
made, as the minds of the present generation are less gymnastic ;
or, again, it may be that a man with some pretensions to
intellectual power ereated new combinations of verbal suffixes,
and impressed them on his generation, and thus superseded
other word-phrases as Chaucer’s English has been succeeded by
a later form, and that by a still later, and the forms of speech
used by his characters have given place to later forms that
would have been scarcely understood in his day. However, in
the Bantu languages there are such possibilities of infinite
combinations that as the natives are now being educated it is
impossible to foretell what subtleties of thought they will be
able to express accurately with so plastic and beautiful a
language.
The Boloki dialect, like all the Bantu languages, is allitera-
tive in construction, i.e. the prefix of the nominative of the
sentence beeomes the prefix of all the words dependent on
it, e.g. :
motoko mana mabale manene j^amansombela we ?«alaba,
(literally)
which me
bought for
spoons those two large
you they are lost
= those two large spoons which you bought for me, they
are lost. The plural prefix ma of the first word whieh is the
nominative is prefixed to all the other words because they are
60
CLASSIFICATION OF WORDS
dependent on it. If it had been in the singular it would have
been Zitoko Zina, etc. This alliterative concord, as it is called,
is very helpful to clearness of meaning.
In the Boloki language there are eight classes of alliterative
concord,^ i.e. all the nouns in the language belong to one or
other of these eight classes, and directly the class of a noun is
decided its pronominal prefixes, its possessive and demonstra-
tive pronouns, etc., are at once known also by the fixed rules of
usage, or, as we should say, by the grammar of the language,
and its plural form is also easily ascertainable.
Class 1.
MoZM=person.
BaZw= persons, people.
99
2.
Ndaku=house.
Mandaku=h.ouses.
99
3.
Loboko=axm.
Maboko=axms.
99
4.
LZnA:me= guinea fowl.
Manfcemo= guinea fowls.
99
5.
Bopepo=pipe bowl.
Mapepe=pipe bowls.
99
6.
Lobeki = saucepan.
Mbeki = saucepans .
99
7.
Etanda = plank.
Bitanda = planks.
99
8.
Munke =eggs.
31inke=eggs.
. Collective noun, nke=& lot of eggs, and this makes its plural
in manke=\ots, as manke mabale=two lots of eggs, as a noun
of Class 2.
It took us a considerable time to work out this classification,
as it meant the collecting of a very large number of words and
the writing down of their singular and plural forms. It was
easy enough to see that all nouns beginning with “ e ” made
their plurals by turning the “ e ” into “ bi ” ; but it was not
so easy to decide about the “ Zo,” for we found that some
plurals were made by changing the “ lo ” into “ ma,” and others
by turning “ Zo ” into “ m ” ; and when it is remembered that
there are sixteen ways of using every adjective, according as it
is singular or plural and belongs to one or other of the classes,
* On the Lower Congo there are fifteen classes.
61
NATIVE FIGURES OF SPEECH
it will be recognized by the reader that an African language is
something to study and not despise as being “ only a nigger’s
language.” Of course, it is easy to pick up a few words and
phrases for ordinary daily use which, when eked out with ges-
tures, will carry the traveller a long way if he has a factotum
quick at sign and thought-reading ; but for expressing the
finer shades of meaning, and also for receiving the same, an
intimate knowledge of the language is necessary. I have heard
more than one white man blame the missionary for “ making
a grammar for the nigger ” ; whereas the missionary has simply
found out the rules by which the “ niggers ” talk, and written
them down in such grammatical terms that others might under-
stand them.
I have inserted a short note on the verb^ in the Appendix,
and also a note on the Boloki method of counting.^ But before
closing this chapter I wish to write a few lines on the figurative
mode of speaking which is peculiar to all Bantu languages, and
by no means confined to the Boloki people. The phrases in
italics are literal translations of the native terms for expressing
their emotions, etc.
When a native is worried his heart is let down, and should he
have a choice of two equally pleasant things his heart is pulled
in opposite directions ; but when the heart has recovered its
normal condition after some violent outbreak it is said to be
stopped, or after some perturbing grief they say the heart is
stuck to the ribs, as there are no longer any flutterings.
A greedy, selfish person has a heart of leaves, and a person
who is recklessly indifferent to all the consequences of his
action has lost his heart, and one who is lying and treacherous
in his ways has a heart that has broken loose, over which the
owner has no proper control. Should you be kind enough to
comfort a person in a great sorrow, your action will be described
as sticking the heart to the ribs, and thus keeping it from moving
about inside ; or if you have soothed a person in distress you
' See Appendix, Note 2, p. 336.
* See Appendix, Note 3, p. 33i).
62
NATIVE FIGURES OF SPEECH
are regarded as having pushed his heart down into its place.
When a person is irresolute in mind, and undecided as to the
best course to pursue, he describes his state by saying, “ My
heart is rolling from side to side,” and the word used describes a
canoe rocking in a storm.
The moon, as its light begins to appear above the horizon, is
said to he kicking out with its legs, and when it shows itself above
the sky-line it is then unstuck from the earth. Sunset is called
either the sun has become black, or the sun has entered, or when
the fowls go to roost ; and the Pleiades are spoken of as a crowd
of young women ; and the bright star Venus as it draws near the
moon is named the wife of the moon.
When you desire to warn a person you tell him to throw his
eyes about, and a person who frowns is said to tie his eyebrows.
A conceited person who wants the whole path to himself is
scornfully asked, “ Did you plant the earth ? ” (i.e. Did you
create the world ?), as though it were a pumpkin over which he
had sole rights of ownership. A lad who gives an impertinent
answer is described as having a sharp mouth, while one who is
not good at repartee is looked upon as having no mouth at all.
A person who frequently reverts to the cause of a quarrel, or
a woman who is constantly nagging, has a word applied to her
which means the bubbling up of boiling water ; and one who
does not contribute his share to the general talk around the
evening fire is likened to the useless fibrous core of a cassava root,
only fit to be thrown away ; while a person who answers a
question not addressed to him is picking up something before it
is lost.
The native word for an umbrella means a large bat. When the
eyes are dimmed from any cause they are said to be covered
with cobwebs ; and a man suffering from hunger says, “ My
waist is stuck to my back” ; i.e. I am so empty of food that there
is nothing to keep the front of the stomach from sticking to
the backbone. A foolish, credulous person is likened to a
squirrel constantly nodding its head in assent to everything that
is said. To become conscious of someone behind looking at you
63
NATIVE FIGURES OF SPEECH
is expressed in the phrase : to feel the back heavy. The Congo
crow has a broad white band round its neck, and when the river
is dark with the reflection of the frowning storm-clouds above,
and the wind is blowing up-river, covering the water with
white-crested waves, such waves are called by the natives a
flock of crows.
64
CHAPTER IV
EARLY DAYS AT MONSEMBE
Building our house — Armed natives — Their ruse to discover onr strength —
The reason of their proffered help — A tribal war — Cannibal feast — Taunt
us with being cowards and women — We defend some visitors — Blood-
brotherhood — Inquisitive Congo boys — Medicine and “ books ” — Mental
powers of Congo lads — Native view of women.
WE were about a fortnight erecting the framework of
our house and finishing the walls ; and then it took
us over two months to collect and dry local materials
for the roof ; but in the meantime we made doors and windows,
and cut a large number of nine-inch blocks for paving the floor.
I thought that these blocks tvould raise us above the damp
earth, and would also help to keep away some of the insect
and reptile pests that invade a house built on the ground.
We did not square the blocks, but simply laid them evenly
bedded in puddled clay ; and with some native mats spread
over them they formed a fairly comfortable floor. The blocks
lasted for more than three years, by which time they began
to rot at the bottom and sink ; but they served their purpose,
and then became useful as firewood.
The house that we ran up so quickly was 40 feet long by 18
feet wide. This gave us each a bed-sitting-room 15 feet by 18
feet, a store-room 10 feet by 12 feet, and a six-foot passage
communicating between the two principal rooms, and into this
passage the front doors opened. In the front of the house we
built a large open porch 14 feet by 14 feet, which served the
purpose of dining, drawing and reception-room. Thus we had a
large airy house, rain, wind, and sun-tight, which undoubtedly
E 65
ARMED NATIVES
greatly conduced to health and comfort during the building of
more permanent dwellings in antieipation of the coming of our
wives.
At that time the natives never moved many yards from their
houses without three or four spears in their hands, ugly knives
in their sheaths, and shields on their arms. Armed in this
manner they would frequently congregate on the bank, and,
shading their eyes with their hands, they would look earnestly
down the river ; and then coming to us they would say, “ White
men, the people in the lower towns are coming up to fight you ;
get out your guns ready and we will help you.”
Looking down the river we could see in the distance many
canoes darting about, but as we had given the natives of those
towns no reason for attaeking us, and as we were the guests
of another town we knew they would not assail us without
collusion with our neighbours ; and as our neighbours had every
opportunity of easily killing two unarmed men if they desired
so to do without calling in outsiders to share the loot, we thought
that the staring down-river, their statements regarding the
evil designs of the lower towns, and their offers of help were
simply attempts to fleece us of barter goods in payment for
their proffered aid ; so we used to get out our binoculars, look
down-river, and making some laughing remark, go on with
our work.
This laughter and brave show were more often forced than
not, for we were at times puzzled by the apparent earnestness
of our neighbours, and their repeated assurances that they
would help us if we would only bring out our guns and properly
prepare to support them w’hen the attack was made. As a
matter of faet, we had only one gun betw^een us, and that was
in pieces at the bottom of one of my trunks. We had no car-
tridges, and although w'e had cartridge cases, shots, balls, caps,
and outfit for making cartridges, yet we had not a grain of gun-
powder ; but all this we kept to ourselves and refused to make
preparations until we were certain the enemy really intended
to attack us.
66
RUSE TO DISCOVER OUR STRENGTH
It was not until some years later that I heard the reason
for these frequent demonstrations on our beach ; there was a
large party, composed of the principal head-men in the town,
who wanted to kill and rob us of our goods, but they were not
sure of our resources. “ What have they in those cases and
trunks ? Are they full of guns and cartridges ? ” These were
the questions discussed around their fires, hence they hit on
the ruse of pretending the other towns were coming to fight
us that we might make a show of such weapons of defence as
were in our possession. They were nonplussed by our apparent
indifference and calmness, and were as mueh puzzled by our
quiet attitude as we were by their warlike demonstrations.
After their unsuccessful attempts to make us exhibit our
force, other questions were agitated : “ Why are the white
men so calm and quiet ? Have they some wonderful magic
or powerful ‘ medicine ’ that will kill us all directly we begin
to fight them ? What have they behind them that they are
not afraid when we tell them the people are coming to attack
them ? Have they little guns (revolvers) concealed about their
clothes ? ” Doubtless our very calmness not only mystified
them, but saved us from an attack that would have been
disastrous to us, and would have frustrated our plans on behalf
of the people. Some nine years before our arrival at Monsembe
I had been told by an old German missionary with whom I was
travelling, that a display of force often incited the natives to
try issues with the sojourner in their midst ; and while the
above incident is a confirmation of the soundness of his advice,
we have a better example of it in Dr. Livingstone, who travelled
among the wildest tribes and won their confidence and friend-
ship because he moved freely amongst them unarmed, and
unaccompanied by any exhibition of physical force.
One evening in November (1890), soon after we entered our
new house, the whole town was thrown into a state of confusion
by the report that some of the up-river towns were coming to
attack Monsembe on the morrow. Women hurried by with
their children, their fowls, and their most treasured belongings,
67
A TRIBAL WAR
and, putting them in canoes, they paddled away in the darkness
to hide them and themselves on the numerous islands opposite
and below Monsembe ; men gathered their spears, knives, and
shields, and stood in groups near the various roads that con-
neeted their town with the upper towns ; the bigger lads
sharpened sticks and hardened the points in the fire so as to
embarrass and annoy the enemy with them even if they could
not kill ; and all through the long night they sounded drums
and gongs not only to keep up their own spirits, but to warn
the foe that they were on the alert.
As the sun next morning began to creep above the eastern
line of trees that bounded our horizon there was great aetivity
in the town. Men ran by with their faces daubed with a thick
coating of oil and soot, or painted with red, blue or white streaks,
their heads adorned with feather caps, and their waists bound
tightly with closely woven cotton belts ; others had cuirasses
of hippopotamus hide protecting their backs, and all were
in a greatly excited state, waving their spears, shields, and
knives, and boasting of what they would do to the enemy.
The women who had no children, and consequently had not left
the town, gathered near our mission house, feeling perhaps more
secure there than anywhere else.
Soon we heard the shouts of the combatants, and the occa-
sional bang of a gun (there were only three or four flint-locks in
the whole town) ; and in came a man with a deep spear wound.
He gave an account of the battle, and the women screamed in
anger, or shouted in derision as his narrative either told of a
friend wounded or an enemy killed. We dressed his wound,
and his wives led him away. For nearly two hours we were
busy dressing wounds to a chorus of screaming and shouting
women ; and then we heard that the attackers had given way,
and were in full retreat. By this time the natives of the lower
towns had arrived to support their neighbours, and they too
joined in the pursuit of the beaten foes, whom they followed to
their towns, where the fight was renewed until the Monsembe
people took possession of them.
68
CANNIBAL FEAST
For a time the only sounds heard in the town were the low
wails of the women mourning for the slain, or weeping over
those who were badly wounded ; and the songs and shouts
of the women whose husbands and relatives had eseaped death
and wounds. Before sunset the victorious party returned with
their loot of goods and prisoners. Goats, sheep, and fowls were
led or carried by our house ; men laden with bunches of
plantains and bananas, or carrying heavy baskets of peanuts,
cassava, and native bread ; others were weighted down with
fish nets, animal nets, doors, paddles, saucepans, and jars ;
for anything that would fetch a few brass rods was stolen and
formed a part of the procession of miscellaneous oddments that
streamed by our house. After raiding the enemies’ towns they
set fire to the houses, and some told us with glee of old and sick
folk who had hidden themselves in the dark corners of their
huts who were burnt to death, preferring, apparently, the tender
mercies of the fire to the cruel death that awaited them if they
fell into the savage hands of their ferocious victors.
While we were sitting at our tea the last party of returning
warriors filed past our house, carrying the limbs of those who
had been slain in the fight. Some had human legs over their
shoulders, others had threaded arms through slits in the
stomachs of their dismembered foes, had tied the ends of the
arms together, thus forming loops, and through these ghastly
loops they had thrust their own living arms and were carrying
them thus with the gory trunks dangling to and fro. The horrible
sight was too much for us, and retching badly we had to abandon
our meal, and it was some days before we could again eat with
any relish. The sight worked on our nerves, and in the night
we would start from our sleep, having seen in our dreams
exaggerated processions passing before us burdened with san-
guinary loads of slain and dismembered bodies.
That night Monsembe and the neighbouring towns were
given up to cannibal feasts, and the next morning they brought
some of the cooked meat to the station, and thinking they
were doing us a favour, they offered to share it with us — the
69
CONSTANT FEAR OF REVENGE
meat looked like black boiled pork. We refused their offering
with disgust, and told them what we thought of their horrible
custom. Long before we settled amongst them we had heard
rumours of their cannibalism, but we regarded the tales as
more or less mythical ; we could no longer now disbelieve
the stories we had heard. And later still there came to our
ears a very circumstantial report that the folk of the lower
part of our district were procuring for their cannibal orgies the
natives of a tributary of the Congo. They gave ivory and
received human beings in exchange, who quickly found their
way to the saucepan ; and a white trader was the intermediary.
However, as soon as the white folk of the district had gathered
such evidence as was irrefutable they brought such pressure to
bear on that white trader and his company (the company was
not implicated) that the horrible traffic was stopped. That an
educated white man could sink so low as to become a wholesale
dealer in human flesh to a tribe of African savages is a psycho-
logical mystery that I must leave others to solve.
After the fighting and feasting were over the Monsembe folk
lived in constant fear of reprisals. Night after night groups of
men were posted near the roads leading from the enemies’
towns, and frequently the gongs and drums broke on the night’s
silence with their rapid beats, awakening the sleepers who,
hastily picking up their spears, knives, and shields, hurried
by to the scene of the alarm only to find that the sentries
“ thought they saw or heard something ” in the adjacent bush.
The women sometimes came screaming in from the farms
avowing they had been chased by the enemy. Every rustle
of the grass, leaves, or bush was interpreted into a lurking foe ;
and the nerves of the victors became so jumpy that a voice
raised in angry conversation would set the whole town agog
with expectation that the enemy had come seeking revenge.
When these alarms took place during the day, the fighters
would demonstrate before our house, and ask us to bring out
our guns and help them to keep off the foe. “You are living
in our town, and you are our white men. We offered to help
70
TAUNT US WITH BEING COWARDS
you against the lower towns if they came to attack you, and
now get out your guns and aid us. Why, if you were only to
show yourselves the people of the upper towns would run away.
Come on, our white men, and help us ! ”
We pointed out to them that all the people of the district
were our friends, and consequently we could not assist one
town to fight against another.
Then, finding that arguments and persuasion failed to move
us, they took to taunting us. “You are not white men,” they
shouted, “ you are women ! You are cowards ! ” And with
curled lips and gestures of scorn they pointed their spears and
knives at us.
Their taunts and gestures of contempt stung us, making the
blood surge through our veins and causing us to go hot and cold
by turns. With pale faces, compressed lips, and hands gripping
tightly whatever came within our grasp, we listened patiently
to their sneers. How easy it would have been to have taken
our gun and made some display of helping them ! To have
walked among them, and to have fired a shot into the bush
would probably have satisfied them and would have stopped
their sneers ; but we were there on behalf of the “ Prince of
Peace.” How could we, then, consistently help them in their
fights ? We w’ere there professing that all the peoples of the
neighbouring towns and surrounding districts were our friends ;
how could we then take up arms against any of them and ex-
pect them to believe our professions of good-will or trust again
in our word ? We were hoping to make our station a centre of
peace, the meeting-place for all factions ; how could w^e, then,
with our hopes and prayers, embroil ourselves in their hatreds
and wars, or join sides with them even in pretending to shoot
down our other parishioners ? It was very difficult, but strength
was given to meet the emergency, to bear calmly the taunts, the
sneers, and the contempt ; and from that time we were regarded
by all the towns of the district as belonging to no one place,
but to all of them, as impartial in our judgments, and just in
our dealings with all alike.
71
WE DEFEND SOME VISITORS
About three weeks after the first outbreak of war the natives
of the upper towns came to talk over the terms of peace. They
landed at our beach as the only neutral spot, and tied their
canoes to our posts. The deliberations were long, boisterous,
and from the noise that came to our ears we thought two or
three times that they were on the point of starting fresh hos-
tilities. At last the palavering was over and the visitors re-
turned to our station, and bidding us good-bye, they entered
their canoes ; but just as they were pushing off the Monsembe
people became excited and threatening in their attitude, and
seeing that a fight on our beach was imminent, my colleague
and I picked up sticks and drove the Monsembe people back
from the river front. We insisted on the neutrality of our
station ; we had bought and paid for the land, consequently it
was ours, and we would have no fighting on it ; if they wanted
to fight they must go to another part of the beach.
This attitude of ours was a revelation to our Monsembe
neighbours. Here were two white men whom they had taunted
with being cowards, women, etc., standing with simply sticks
in their hands to oppose a crowd armed with spears and
knives. Two white men with sticks only throwing themselves
between them and their enemies, and demanding that no blood
should be shed on their land. What power had these white
men behind them ? So astonished were they that they halted
in their treacherous attack on their visitors, who, taking
advantage of the lull, paddled beyond reach of the uplifted
spears, and arrived safely home.
After this failure to settle the terms of peace, a go-between
{molekaleku) was appointed and approved by both parties. He
was an outsider of importance and had the confidence of the
clans concerned. He arranged the terms of peace : all loot
and slaves should be retained by the conquerors ; but all the
free folk captured should be set at liberty. This go-between
selected a neutral place for the ceremony of blood-brotherhood,
and was pledged that the meeting should take place without a
renewal of hostilities by either party.
72
MAKING BLOOD-BROTHERHOOD
All the preliminaries having been settled the parties met at
the place and time appointed ; and then a stick called ndeko
was procured and carefully scraped, and these scrapings were
mixed with salt. The contracting parties — the head-man of
each side — clasped eaeh other’s right hand with the ndeko
between the palms ; some incisions were then made on the
arms and the mixture of ndeko scrapings and salt was rubbed
on the cuts ; each then put his mouth to the incisions on the
other’s arm and sueked for a few moments, after which one
of the contracting parties took the ndeko stick and struck the
wrists and knees of the other, saying : “ If ever I break this
covenant may I be cursed by having my nose rot off.” ^ Then
the other took the ndeko stick, and, performing the same
ceremony, he called down the same curse on himself should he
ever break the contract. These rites were accompanied by the
drinking of much sugar-cane wine, and the whole ceremony
was called tena ndeko = to cut the ndeko stick.
After making blood-brotherhood between the head-men, there
was enacted another performance called bakia lolelembe : a
medicine man took a palm frond, split it and put one-half
of the frond across the path leading from Monsembe to the
upper towns — the towns of the contracting parties. This was
not only a sign that all that palaver was finished, but it was a
fetish having power, it was supposed, to punish anyone who
broke the treaty. It was firmly believed that the side that
renewed that quarrel would get the worst of it by wounds and
death. Perhaps this is the history of many a tribal fight in
Africa — alarm, attack, defeat, pursuit, cannibal feasts, and the
making of peace by blood-brotherhood.
Congo boys are the most inquisitive animals that I have yet
met in Africa. Crocodiles, when boats were new to the Congo,
would follow them for hours in their attempts to investigate
the strange object ; goats and sheep were always ready to
’ Probably lupus. There were a few cases of this disease, and it was
regarded as a punishment for faithlessness in observing the oath of blood-
brotherhood.
73
INQUISITIVE CONGO BOYS
poke their noses at new things that came within their purview,
but their curiosity was quickly satisfied. Congo boys (and in a
minor degree the girls also) were never wearied of watching
us at work, following us about to see what we would do next,
and asking about our tools, etc., and why we did this or that in
such a way, and did not accomplish the same result by some
other mode of procedure. They would stand about our table
while we were at meals, and pass critical remarks on our manner
of eating, slyly imitating the action of our jaws as we masticated
our food, or mimic our gestures as we conversed with one
another. We seemed to live, move, and pass our existence in
the full glare of public gaze like fish in a glass tank.
One never-ending source of delight to them was to scan our
countenances as we read. They noticed every alteration of
facial expression as the “ books talked to us.” If we burst out
laughing at some witticism in our reading they would laugh
heartily in sympathy with us, and would poke one another,
saying : “ The book is talking some funny thing to them.”
When their shyness had passed away they would ask : “ What
does the book say to make you laugh ? ” Occasionally the bit
of wit came within the scope of their comprehension, and of
our knowledge of the language, and they would enjoy it as
much as we did, showing they had a ready wit and enjoyed a
hearty laugh ; and we felt encouraged, for there is some hope
for a people that can laugh joyously and boisterously.
At times they would creep behind us, and looking earnestly
at the open page, they would cock their ears to listen intently
for any sound, and seeing nothing but a blurred page, and hear-
ing no sounds, they would insinuatingly ask : “ White man,
how does the book talk to you ? and can you make it talk to
us ? ” We would then explain the system of letters and syl-
lables, etc. ; but would, at the same time, express a doubt as
to their ability to learn to read.
“ Cannot you give us some ‘ medicine ’ to make us under-
stand the ‘ book ’ talk ? ” they would pleadingly ask of us.
“ No,” we replied ; “ there is no ‘ medicine ’ that can give
74
MEDICINE AND “BOOKS”
you such wsdom. You must learn letter by letter, and of
course you have no brains for sueh work. What is the use of
wasting time in teaching you ? ”
If we had exhibited any special eagerness to teaeh them,
they would have held back ; but chaffing them and pretending
that they had not enough brains to learn had the desired effect
of putting them on their mettle, and they begged us to start
school right away. We showed no hurry to fall in with their
wishes, and this only piqued them and made them more de-
sirous of having a school. At last we acceded to their repeated
requests, and told them that on the day that followed the next
“ rest-day ” (i.e. on Monday next), we would begin school and
hold it every morning for five days a week.
The eventful morning dawned, and with it about twenty
lads arrived to enter upon the mysteries of the white man’s
“ book.” At that time I was busy building a suitable house in
anticipation of my wife’s arrival, so my colleague, Mr. Staple-
ton, took charge of the new school. His room was the school-
house. We had written out the alphabet in large letters,
and had prepared some slips from which they might copy.
We opened a box containing some slates and pencils. The
school-house and apparatus were in keeping with the scholars,
but the latter brought with them a large amount of enthusiasm
and determination, so what was lacking in school furniture,
and in the attire of our pupils, was made up in the willingness
and earnestness of the scholars.
The adults were almost as greatly excited as the boys.
They watched every movement of the teacher, and tried to
imitate the sounds of the various letters. As I passed to and
fro at my work I could see the door and windows crowded
by the throng of on-lookers, and could hear their laughable
attempts at learning. Two hours at this kind of teaching
thoroughly exhausted my eolleague, for there were not only
twenty sprightly boys to look after, but a crowd of men and
women who demanded no little attention. In a week or two
the newness of the school wore away, fewer adults gathered
75
MENTAL POWERS OF CONGO BOYS
around the doors and windows, and some of the lads, finding
that there really was no “ medieine ” to drink imparting to
them book knowledge, no royal road to learning, but that it
entailed continuous effort, gave up coming, and by the end of
a fortnight only about half the original class was left — but they
were worth teaching, and they persevered until they became
good scholars and afterwards teachers of others.
During nearly thirty years’ teaching of Congo youths, both
on the Lower and Upper River, I have noticed that up to the
age of fourteen or fifteen the boys and girls — especially the boys
— are very receptive, and are easily taught ; but after that
age comparatively few make real advance in learning. By
the age of fourteen they have arrived at puberty, and after
that they have to make a continuous effort to retain any book
knowledge they may have received. This may be due in some
measure to their thoughts being centred on other matters, as
trade journeys, fishing, and hunting on their own account, and
later to building their houses, looking about for a wife, and
procuring the necessary articles for paying the marriage money,
and meeting the expenses of the feasts, etc.
The following is probably a great factor in causing their
mental growth to stop practically at the above age : For
generations boys on arriving at the age of fourteen or fifteen
had learned all their fathers had to teach them respecting
fishing, hunting, wood-craft, building, paddling, etc. If they
showed a special aptitude for fishing, hunting, etc., they followed
their “ bent ” in that particular, and became proficient simply
by practice, and their successes were generally put to the credit
of their charms. They never initiated new ways of building
(until after the arrival of the white man), or new ways of
hunting or fishing, etc., but only carried on those modes they
had gained from their fathers, and which were mastered by
the time they were fifteen years old. Thus their intelligence
has attained, for generations, its fullest development by the
above age, and now we have to help them over that crucial
stage. In some cases it is very difficult, but in other eases
76
Photo 6_y] \tht Author
Our Boat and its Crew
This boat — the gift of a friend at Derby — wa? used in itinerating up and down our large parish
with iis two hundred miles of river frontage.
Photo by-\ \the Author
A Room in the Monsembe House
The author s study and^ his wife s drawing- and reception-room. The walls are made of bamboo>,
scraped and varnished, and all the furniture, except the chairs, was made on the spot.
4
NATIVE VIEW OF WOMEN
we can do so ; and in such there is no limit to the intellectual
progress they may make. In many instances they have mas-
tered a good working knowledge of French, Portuguese, or
English, both spoken and written, and as larger opportunities
are given, a large number of youths will make such mental
progress as will encourage their friends and teachers.
The native in his raw state gained such an acquaintance with
the languages of neighbouring tribes as to be able to communi-
cate freely with them ; and in many of their folk-lore stories
there are sentences taken from other languages and scattered
through the tales like French phrases in a fashionable novel.
We have found, as a rule, that lads who came to us at fourteen
or fifteen made very slow progress in our schools, and seldom
reached the higher classes. They lost heart at their difficulties,
and left school — there were exceptions, but such as only go to
prove the rule. I think it would not be difficult to prove that
English lads at the age of fourteen or fifteen need constant
spurring by teacher, father, or guardian, or a much larger pro-
portion of them would lose the knowledge they had acquired
in their schools.
When I had almost finished building the three-room bunga-
low in which I hoped to spend many years with my devoted-
wife, I began to build a kitchen, and the natives, seeing a smaller
house being built in proximity to the larger one, said : “ That
is where the white man is going to put his wife, while he will,
of course, live in the large house.”
“ No,” we answered ; “ that is the cook-house. My wife
will live here in this house when she arrives,”
“ You would not be so foolish, white man,” they inquired,
“ as to put a woman in this fine house ? You will send her to
live in that small one, will you not ? ” And there was a certain
amount of anxiety in their tones rather indicative of their
fear that I was going to upset the proper order of domestic
life by allowing a woman to live on equality with myself.
They would scarcely believe me until they saw the stove
fixed in the cook-house, and my wife installed with me on equal
77
NATIVE VIEW OF WOMEN
terms in what they called my “ fine house,” which was only a
three-roomed cottage with a verandah on two sides.
The Boloki’s regard for women was a strange contradiction.
I have seen them walking — man and wife — with their arms
around each other’s waist, as though they were a couple of
English lovers crossing a common in the twilight. I never
saw natives exhibit so much fondling and affection for each
other as was shown among those erstwhile cannibals. Ninety
per cent of their quarrels were about women, for every man
who had one or more wives bitterly resented any interference
with his sole proprietorship in them. They would fondle
their women, yet treat them contemptuously as inferiors ; they
would fight to assert their rights of ownership in them, yet
regard them as so greatly beneath them as to send them to
eat their food by themselves out of sight ; and they would
slave to collect sufficient goods to pay the marriage money for
their free wives, or to procure the price of their slave wives,
yet the former they would thrash unmercifully, and the latter,
for a whim or in a fit of temper, they would murder and fling
the corpse into the river, or invite their neighbours to feast
with them on the body.
78
CHAPTER V
ARTS AND CRAFTS AND NATIVE
INDUSTRY
A Congo lad in England — People doing no work — Erroneous views — A con-
demnation of “ niggers” — Its answer — White employers of black labour —
Allowances to be made — Leather-work — String making — Bark cloth —
Basket-work — Pottery — Dyeing and painting — Working in metal —
Aptitude for learning handicrafts.
Many years ago I brought a native lad of quick in-
telligence from the wilds of Congo to my home in
London. He noticed the people crowding the pave-
ments, filling the tram-cars, omnibuses, and trains ; and his
frequent question was : “ How do all these people live, for
they seem only to ride and walk about and do no work ? ”
Later he observed that all the articles in the various windows
of the different tradespeople had prices marked on them, and
that money was necessary with which to buy them. He had
tried to procure things himself from the shops, and had learned
by sad experience that not only was money needful for that
purpose, but the right amount was requisite before he could
become the happy possessor of the coveted article so luringly
displayed in the window ; and then his question was : “ How
do the people get the money with which to buy all those
things ? ”
“ They have to work for their money,” I replied. “ Some
have to work hard for very little money, others earn more by
less laborious work, and others again are fortunate enough to
have had fathers who worked hard and have left their
79
ERRONEOUS VIEWS
sons and daughters so rich that they have no need to
work.”
“ Work hard ! ” he exclaimed incredulously. “ Why, they
only ride, or walk about the streets, or sit in shops eating and
drinking. I do not see them at work.”
I fear that if that lad had returned to his country then, he
would have carried with him a very poor idea of white folk,
and would have regarded us as a lazy lot who only walked
or rode about the streets, or sat eating and drinking in shops.
It took many a long talk to explain our system, and when later
I had the opportunity of taking him behind the scenes into
factories, and over buildings in the course of erection, he modi-
fied his views and came to understand that the white man
works. At the back of his mind was the idea, very prevalent
among some of the Congo tribes, that all our articles of barter
are manufactured by the blacks, whose dead bodies we have
bought in Africa and sent to Mputu (countries of the white
people), where by the wonderful magic of the white men the
bodies are resurrected, and they are now doing our work for
us so that we can walk and ride about with nothing whatever
to do. It is the ignorance of one people about another that
causes such misunderstandings, prejudices, and erroneous judg-
ments. The lad would never have thought of charging the
traders, the missionaries, or Government officials with laziness,
for he saw and understood their work ; but these white folk
who crowded the streets, filled the vehicles and the shops, what
work did they do ? He could not see it, and his superficial
and mistaken opinion was that they were an indolent lot of folk.
Sitting at tea with me one day at Monsembe was the captain
of a State steamer. A propos of nothing in particular, he
exclaimed : “ What lazy fellows these niggers are ! ”
“ To whom are you specially referring ? ” I inquired of him.
“ Well,” he said, “ before coming to your house to tea this
afternoon I took a walk through the town and saw some men
lounging about talking, and others asleep under the shade of
some plantain and fig trees.”
80
CONDEMNATION OF “NIGGERS”
“ Oh, yes,” I replied ; “ I know them very well. Some of
them have been for several weeks over on the islands, living in
rough shanties, fishing all day and smoke-drying their fish over
their fires during the evenings. They returned this morning
after their long spell on the islands, and they are resting for a
few days before starting on another fishing expedition. Another
lot of men came in yesterday with that heavy canoe in the
rough that you saw on the beach. They were away some weeks
felling a huge tree, hollowing it out, and shaping it in the rough
with their little axes — a laborious job. Yesterday they floated
it home, and are now enjoying a well-earned rest before finishing
the canoe and selling it. What you saw was not an exhibition
of laziness, but a relaxation after prolonged arduous work.”
Just then a strongly-formed, well-built young man went past
the house. “ There, do you see him ? ” asked my visitor ; “ I
saw him asleep in his hammock- chair.”
“ Yes, I know him,” was my reply ; “ he is one of the head-
men of this district. His father was wealthy as natives go in
this part, and left him enough to give him the equivalent of
£300 a year in your money. Would you work if you had £300
a year coming in ? ”
“ By Jove, no ! ” he quickly replied, slapping his knee at
the very idea of possessing £300 a year without working for
it. “ I would have a nice little house with a fine garden, and
I would sit smoking all day in the midst of my flowers.”
“ Just so ! ! ! ” was my comment.
The natives of Africa live in an enervating climate, with
a temperature frequently nearer 95° in the shade than 70°.
They dwell in the midst of a prolific nature that supplies their
vegetable foods with very little exertion, and in such environ-
ments that their needs are few and easily met. In their natural
state there are both lazy and industrious folk as in other
countries.
When the white man arrives he engages his native workman,
at so much per month, for twelve, eighteen, or twenty-four
months. For the first time in his life the native has to work
F
81
ITS ANSWER
regular hours, starting and leaving off to the deep notes of a
bell, or the tap, tap of a drum. At first the experience is novel,
and he is most willing and hard-working ; but pay-day is a long
way off, his enthusiasm eools as the novelty passes away, and
then the master will have to look vigilantly and constantly
after his hired workman. Give him piece-work and pay him
by results and you will see prodigies of labour, for every pay-
ment made on those lines is an incentive to further effort.
The native as keenly enjoys money and what money brings in
extra food, comforts, and prestige as the white man, and is as
willing to work for them.
The employer of labour in Africa is the white man, and he
desires to get as much work as he can for his money, and the
employee tries to give as little of his energy and strength as he
can for the pay he is to reeeive twelve, eighteen, or twenty-four
months hence, consequently there is a clash of interests ; and
while the white man has the opportunity, among his friends, of
talking loudly about the “ lazy niggers,” let him sit with the
natives round the fire one evening, and he may be surprised to
learn that there is another point of view, and that not over-
flattering to his fairness as a master.
I have frequently asked employers of labour in England
whether they were satisfied with the work done for them by
their day labourers, and while they readily allowed for excep-
tions, yet they spoke strongly of such men as “ doing as little
as possible for their pay.” Every branch of work that it is
possible to give out as piece-work is nowadays so arranged.
Why ? The masters are satisfied, for they get done that for
whieh they pay ; the men are better pleased, for they receive
what they earn, and the quiekest and most industrious man
gains the largest pay, and his superior energy is not balanced
against the laziest man in the shop. Let us do justice to the
blaek man. He is the only one who in such a climate can work
long hours at a time, and for months at a stretch. All the evi-
dences of civilization on the Congo are the results of his energy
and endurance directed by his white master. He is, however,
82
ALLOWANCES TO BE MADE
no fonder of work than the average white man ; but like the
latter he is willing to labour to inerease his comforts in the
house, his prestige in the village, and to meet his obligations as
a man, a husband, and a father, for each relationship makes
its own demands on his resources.
In 1890 we opened our Mission station at Monsembe, but
previous to our arrival the natives had not had sufficient inter-
course with white people either to increase their arts and
industries or even to modify them by the introduction of new
methods or new tools. The natives then were as they had been
for many a generation, and their manufactures were limited by
the materials at their disposal. In judging of the merits or
demerits of the manufactures of a tribe, it is necessary to take
into consideration the materials to be obtained in their district
and the tools with which they are compelled, by force of
circumstances, to do their work. Suppose the Lancashire people
were restricted in their manufactures to such material as they
could obtain from the surface of their county, and the small
supplies that filtered through to them from the adjacent
counties by laborious and costly transport over the hills, or
by canoes on their rushing streams, we should hear nothing of
the cotton mills, the weaving, the iron works, etc., of that
industrious and hardy folk. It is what has been brought into
the county, what has been dug from the bowels of its land, and
the machinery and tools that have been imported into it that
have given Lancashire the place it rightly holds in the commer-
cial and industrial world. And what has been written of
Lancashire can also be said of many another county in Great
Britain, and should be recognized when judging of the merits
or demerits of the arts and crafts of an African tribe.
Before the arrival of white men at Monsembe it was the
practice of the natives to ornament their saucepans with a
herring-bone pattern and with bands ; their knives and spears
with parallel incised lines, and with herring-bone pattern ;
their shields being made of basket-work material had often a
border of lozenge pattern round the edge. The blades of paddles
83
LEATHER-WORK
had parallel incised lines, and their canoes had the same kind
of lines along the outer top edge. Handles of knives and hafts
of spears were made in various shapes, and studded vith brass
nails, or bound round with brass ribbon. I never saw any
drawings until I had been there a considerable time, and then
they took to sketching on the fronts of their houses, and on
letters they sent to each other. These sketches were of steamers,
houses, and people. The drawings were done in charcoal, and
when outlining a figure the cock’s-comb tattoo on the forehead
was usually much exaggerated. They had no idea of per-
spective, but a sense of humour was often exhibited when
“ taking off ” a person.
The hides and skins of animals were employed for various
purposes. The skin of the hippopotamus was used for cuirasses ;
that of the buffalo, antelope, goat, and sheep for belts, basket-
straps, and knife sheaths ; that of the monkey, sygale, monitor,
mongoose and civet cat for hats, belts, small sheaths, and
ornamental aprons, or for containing charms ; that of the boa
constrictor and other large snakes for belts, sheaths, and drum
heads. The skin was either stretched and pinned by wooden
pegs on the ground, or laced on a frame. The bits of flesh
were cut off, some wood ash rubbed on, and then it was left
to dry in the sun. If a soft, flexible skin was desired, oil was
rubbed into the skin after it was thoroughly dry. It was not
the custom to take the hair off any of the skins. Leopard skins
were prepared by the above mode, and were usually preserved
whole as mats upon which chiefs and head-men sat.
If the owner of an animal wished to sell the flesh in open
market the skin was not taken off, but the animal was so cut
up that a piece of skin was left on each portion. The buyer
could then see the kind of animal flesh offered for sale, and
would know for a certainty whether it was tabooed to him or
not. Goats, sheep, and dogs were thus cut up and hawked for
sale through the villages. This custom of cutting up the animals
so that the requirements of taboo might be met accounts^for
the destruction of a large number of skins in Africa ; but when
84
STRING MAKING
a party of hunters captured an antelope it was skinned, or when
a family killed a goat or sheep and did not wish to sell any of it,
the animal was skinned whole, and the hide was preserved and
utilized. Although the skin of the electric fish (nina) is more than
half an inch thick, I never saw it used for any purpose ; in fact,
the people would not even eat the flesh. I once tried to dry the
skin in the hot, strong sun, but it became putrid before the sun
had any effect on it.
There was a great demand for string, and it was met in the
following way : The bark of a water-plant, called by the
natives munkungi, was manufactured into rope and string.
The withes were cut into lengths from 3 to 4 feet long
and carried into the town, the bark was then peeled off — it
strips easily — carefully scraped on both sides by running it
between the edge of a knife and a board, and then spread in
the sun to dry. The strips were taken in the hand, length by
length, and spun by twisting them between the palm of the hand
and the thigh of the operator. The different threads were then
plaited into a string, and these were twisted together into cords
three-eighths of an inch in diameter. Sometimes the palm-frond
fibres were employed for making the finer strings and twine.
The strong cords were used for tying up their canoes and
bundles ; and also plaited into mats about 3 feet long by
1 foot to 1 foot 6 inches wide, for crushing the sugar-cane
fibre when making sugar-cane wine. The better-made stringsv
and twines were made into shoulder-bags or satchels, and also
into fighting-belts. These belts were from 9 to 12 feet long,
and about 4 or 5 inches wide, and were generally well
smeared with pipe clay ; they were wound round the
abdomen just before a fight, and afforded a good protection
against spear-thrusts. The string was wound on a wooden
spool, and the fish-nets, of all sizes and shapes, were made by
the ordinary process of netting, the mesh varying according
to the size and purpose of the net.
For some years after we arrived at Monsembe the old folk
wore bark cloth. A strip of bark 18 inches long by 5 or
86
BARK CLOTH
6 inches wide, and ij inches thick was taken from the
tree — the wild fig tree, or from a tree called ngumbu. The
strip of bark was soaked in water for a time, and then beaten
with an ivory mallet as it lay across the palm of the hand. The
strip of bark gradually widened to 18 inches, and length-
ened to 3 or 4 feet. Some cloths were very evenly beaten.
This is one of about fifteen fringes that a woman wears tied
round her waist. The more chic the wearer the shorter the
fringes are cut. They are made from scraped palm leaves.
SO that no holes appeared ; others were not so well done, and
holes and uneven places showed in the finished cloth. Likuta
was the name given to the finished cloth. I never saw any
weaving among these Boloki folk, but they told me of an
ancient native-made cloth called pelele ; but I never saw a
specimen of it, and cannot speak of its texture.
Not many baskets were made by the Boloki folk, but the
most common was a wedge-shaped basket of medium texture,
86
POTTERY
and with a capacity of about half a bushel, used for carrying
home farm produce. This was made of split cane, of the same
thickness and style as the seat of a cane chair. It was a large
oval at the mouth running down to a small oval at the bottom,
and was carried on the back either by a single strap across the
chest or forehead, or by two small loops through which the arms
were passed. For soaking their cassava roots long conical
baskets were used with lids to tie down. Oeeasionally I saw their
large sugar-cane wine-pots covered with stout basket-work,
and strong handles plaited on to them. Other kinds of baskets
found amongst this tribe were made by slaves captured or
bought from neighbouring districts ; and their shields of
basket-Avork were, I believe, bought ready-made from other
tribes. I never saw one in the making. A very large variety
of fish traps and baskets Avere made by these folk. Some were
over 6 feet in diameter and long in proportion, Avhile others
were small enough for a child to handle. They were very
dexterous in tAvisting canes into A'arious shapes for their
basket-work, and in making mats from papyrus.
The pottery made by the Boloki women divides itself easily
into three kinds : 1. Saucepans of various sizes but only one
shape. 2. Wine-pots from 6 inches high to 2 and 3 feet
high and broad in proportion. 3.^ Firepans or hearths for
carrying fire in their canoes Avhen travelling. These latter had
three prongs overhanging the top of the saucepan, upon which
an ordinary cooking-pot could be placed, and allow of a free
passage of air to the fire.
They had no knoAvledge of a wheel, but built up their pottery
on a base by rolling the clay between the palms of the hands
into long pencils about the size of a finger, and then Avelding
the strip to the base and flattening it out AAdth the fingers as
they worked round the pot. The only decorations I have seen
on their pottery are “ chevrons ” and “ herring-bone.”
’ No. 1 was called loheki. No. 2 mobako, or a small size nduhu. No. 3
was named lokenge. There were many other names, but they only differ-
entiated the sizes, and also showed whether they were well or badly made, etc.
87
IRON SMELTING
In baking their pottery no kilns were used, but firewood was
laid carefully on the ground, and the pots arranged on the top,
and then small firewood, tmgs, etc., were throwm over the
whole pile and the fire lighted.
On the Mobangi River I saw some varnishing done. When
the pots were sufficiently baked, and while still very hot, they
were rubbed over with lumps of gum copal. Pots treated in
this way were suitable for drinking- vessels, or as dishes in which
to place food ; but they were unsuitable for cooking purposes,
for directly the pot got hot the gum copal caught fire. Some,
before being rubbed over with the gum copal, were smeared with
arnotto dye, and thus showed red through the glazing.
Iron ore was imported from the upper reaches of the Lulanga
River, and smelted in native crucibles. The furnace was a
hole about 18 inches deep, about 15 inches in diameter at the
top, and 8 to 10 inches at the bottom. Charcoal made from
hard woods was the heating medium. The smelting pot with
the ore was put in the middle of the furnace, and the blast was
furnished by native bellows and conducted to the heart of the
furnace by a funnel-shaped tube of burnt clay. The bellows
were cut out of a solid block of wood. There were two holes,
each from 8 to 12 inches in diameter, which opened below into
a common wooden tube whieh fitted into the above-mentioned
clay funnel. Over each of the holes a soft skin was securely
tied, and to the centre of each skin was fixed a stick about
3 feet 6 inches long. The operator worked the sticks up and
down alternately, and the more vigorously he worked the more
powerful the blast.
The native blacksmith made hoes and axes ; knives of
various shapes and sizes ; spear-heads of different kinds,
barbed for fishing-spears, small-bladed ones for fighting, or
broad-bladed fancy spears for purposes of show when visiting
friends and neighbours. He also fashioned large hooks for
catching crocodiles, the razors for shaving the head or face,
lances for killing hippopotami, knives for household use,
gouges and chisels for canoe-making, and piercers for mat-
88
A wheel is unknown, but ihe pottery is generally very perfect in shape. The pots are baked, and sometimes glazed with gum copal. Those with
three prongs are u>ed for cooking while travelling in a canoe. The saucepan of food is* supported on the three prongs, and small hrewood is put in
the openings.
WORKING IN METAL
making. Unfortunately the introduction of European knives,
hoes, and axes has ruined this native industry.
For some time after we settled at Monsembe the blacksmith
would buy up the iron bands from our bales and boxes, and
work them up into hoes, knives, axes, and spear-heads. The
anvil was a block of hard wood, the hammer was a bar of iron
about 8 or 10 inches long, and inches square. They had no
pincers, but when the piece of iron was too short to hold while
working it they made a wooden handle for it, whieh they slipped
on and off as required. They knew the proeess for making steel,
and could put a very fine edge on their razors, spears, and
knives.
Large brass rings for the neck were made in the following
way : The potato-like substanee of the plantain root was cut
into shape of the desired circumference and thickness ; this
model was surrounded with well-kneaded clay, a funnel-shaped
opening being made to let off steam, to clear out the eharred
fibre of the plantain root, and to pour in the molten metal.
This mould, when completed, was baked in the fire, and as it
baked the plantain-root model inside was burnt ; the ashes
were eleared out and the liquid brass poured in. When cool,
the mould was broken and the brass ring was well polished by
scraping and rubbing, and “ herring-bone,” and “ lozenge ”
patterns were cut on it.
Small rings were made for the legs and wrists. A ring was
put on each leg, resting on the ankles ; a year or so later
another pair of rings was added to the first pair, and so on,
until the rings almost reached the knees. By gradually adding
ring to ring the wearer became used to the weight, and the
ankles became corneous. I once took more than a dozen rings
from the legs of a woman, weighing 60 lbs. in all — 30 lbs. of
brass on each leg. When these heavy rings had been removed
the woman seemed top-heavy ; her legs were now so light that
apparently she had no control over them, and she crossed our
enclosure like a drunken person. I have seen solid brass neck-
lets weighing from 20 to 28 lbs. each. On one occasion, while
89
MAKING SPIRAL LEGLETS
chatting with a chief, I asked him if he buried the brass rings
when his wives died, and he at once replied : “ No.”
“ How do you remove such heavy, strong rings from the
neck of a dead woman ? ” was my next question.
He did not reply in words, but he ran his finger round his
own neck, indicating that under such circumstances they cut
off the head in order to remove the rings.
Long spiral leg rings were made in the following manner :
A bamboo, from 12 to 15 feet long, was split (bamboo, Raphia
vinifera, in which there are no nodes). The pith, to the de-
sired depth and width, was taken out of one half and the
molten brass ^ was poured along this channel. This gave the
operator a long brass rod about the thickness of the index
finger, and this rod was carefully beaten round, scraped, and
polished ; and starting from the ankle it was wound round
and round the leg nearly up to the knee, each circumference
of the spiral being made a little larger than the one immediately
below it. At the bottom the leglet impinged on the ankle,
which bore the whole weight ; but at the top it had 2 or 3
inches’ play about the calf of the leg. Brass ribbon was made
by beating out the brass rods to the required width, and this
ribbon was used for ornamenting spear and knife handles, the
hafts of paddles, and knife sheaths.
The social position of a smith among the natives was very
high, and he was regarded with as much respect as a profes-
sional man is in Europe. The natives thought that the smith
was not only wise and skilful, but that he practised witchcraft
in order to perform his work properly. No one was allowed
to step over a smith’s furnace, nor blow it with his mouth, nor
spit into it, as either of these actions would pollute the fire,
and thus cause bad workmanship. Any person polluting the
fire would have to compensate the smith by the payment of a
heavy fine. A smith taught his son or his nephew the trade,
but would not take an apprentice on any consideration. He
* Copper (dikulu) was known, but I never saw any of it worked, and only
very little worn as ornaments.
90
A Native Woman of Wealth
She has highly«prized beads across her chest, a brass chain around her waist from which dangles
a large brass bell, numerous brass rings round her arms, and brass rings on her big toes. On her
legs she has spiral brass rings.
MANUFACTURING SALT
was always kno^vn by the name of his trade, and was conse-
quently called moiuli=ih.e one who tula, or works in iron.
How did the smith procure his brass for the making of rings,
etc. ? The currency of the country was the brass rod, and the
rods were also used for their brass-work. The brass-worker
would collect as many rods as possible, and cut from half an
inch to one inch off each rod, and thus get his material for
nothing.
Before, and for some time after, the arrival of white men
salt^ was made by the natives burning two different kinds of
vegetation. (1) The thick, succulent stems of a grass ^ that
grew in the water along the banks of the river. This was cut
in large quantities and heaped along the bank until dry, when
it was carried to the town. (2) It was also made from a small
plant from 4 to 5 inches in diameter, with thickish leaves, no
stem, rootlets coming straight from the leaves, with the leaves
arranged like a rosette. This plant floats on the river in large
quantities, being torn from the banks by every storm that
ruffles the river. The process of manufacturing salt with either
the plants 'or the grass was the same. A large quantity, say
of the succulent grass, or grass and plants mixed, was collected
on the bank, turned over from time to time until thoroughly
dry ; then it was carried to the town, heaped up, and burnt
to ashes. A large funnel was made of leaves, folded and
plaited together, and suspended from a stick. Into this funnel
some ashes were put and water poured on them. The water
dissolved the greater part of the ashes and percolated gently
through the leaves into a shallow saucepan, where the moisture
evaporated, leaving behind a dirty white granulated substance
which was used and sold as salt. About a tablespoonful cost
IJd. I knew a semi-mad man who ate two tablespoonfuls of
this salt and died in a few hours from the effect of it.
The Boloki were very fond of music, and quickly acquired
* Native names for salt, monana and mokwa.
® Called by the natives monkoko mwa «joA:o= sugar-cane of the elephant,
because it was so juicy.
91
SPREADING NEWS BY CANOE SONGS
a new tune. Their voices, as a rule, were loud, clear, steady,
and flexible, and they sang from the chest. There were harsh,
strident voices among them, but they were the exeeption, and
at certain ages their voices broke and became falsetto. Their
singing was mixed, i.e. men and women sang together, and
was generally accompanied by an instrument, or by the beat-
ing of a stick on a plank, or the clapping of hands to give the
time. In some ceremonies the women sang by themselves, at
other times the men by themselves, and very often the two
sexes together, as when travelling in their canoes. The com-
panies sang in unison, and recitative time. Many of their
songs were a combination of solo and chorus.
When paddling their canoes, either a small drum was beaten
or a stick struck rhythmically on the edge of the canoe to
give time to the stroke of their paddles, and to the rhythm of
their songs, solos, and ehoruses. As a rule one sang a solo,
and the others took up the chorus. Their songs were generally
topical, and as they paddled up or down river they gave all
the latest information of interest to the villages as they passed
them. I have often been amazed at the rapidity and accuracy
with which news was spread in this way. A canoe leaving
Nouvelles Anvers (Diboko), where the State had a large
station, would carry up or down river all the gossip about the
doings and sayings of the white men of the station, accounts
of their punitive expeditions, judgments passed on captives
and prisoners, their treatment of the natives who had taken
the taxes there, what new white folk were expected and who
was leaving for Europe, etc. The white officers told their per-
sonal boys any item of news, and they passed on the items to
their friends ; hence in the course of an hour or two everybody
on a station was acquainted with all the special bits of infor-
mation worth knowing.
This singing answered another purpose : it gave warning
to the village that a canoe was approaching, and that the folk
in it w'ere friendly. A canoe of any size that approaehed a
town without singing and drumming was regarded as an
92
I
1 he proper kind of grass is collected, dried, and burnt. A funnel of large leaves is prepared, some of the ashes are put in the funnel and water
poured over them. This percolates through the leaves, and when evaporated leaves a thin layer of salt.
LEARNING NEW TUNES
enemy’s canoe, and was treated as sueh, i.e. spears, stones, etc.,
would be thrown at the occupants of it.
Occasionally a professional singer would visit our town and
teach the young men a new tune. He charged two or three
brass rods per person, but would not teach the tune unless he
had enough pupils to pay him, and then he would stay a day
or two until they had learned the tune perfectly ; and when
once they had caught it they would set their own words to it.
A few years ago I wrote in my notebook as follows : “A pro-
fessional dancer and singer has recently visited the town, and,
like so many of his European brethren, he was marked by
some eccentricity in dress. He wore a belt of red and blue
baize about 18 inches wide (the usual width is 4 to 8 inches),
which made him the observed of all observers. Our profes-
sional in walking about the town put on a swagger fully in
keeping with his position and dignity — his bells tingled, and
his monkey and wild cat skins dangled to and fro. He received
a large fee from a mourning family that engaged him to dance
and sing in honour of their dead relatives.”
The native songs may be divided into three classes : (a)
topical, as sung in canoes while distributing news ; (b) local
songs, in which the events of the daily life of the village are
temporarily recorded, as the bravery, cowardice, unsociability,
generosity, meanness, thievishness, etc., of the men and
women of village or town. These local songs have a great
effect on the people, for they crystallize the public opinion
concerning an individual, and the African hates nothing so
much as being sung against or ridiculed in a song, (c) Songs
at funeral festivities, when the praises of the dead are
sung.
They borrowed tunes freely from other tribes, and soon
learned to sing all the European tunes we cared to teach them ;
but I do not think that any sounds affected them like the
rhythmical beat of their own drums. To that beat they would
paddle vigorously for hours beneath the tropical sun ; dance
perspiringly through a long afternoon, or through a long
93
CANOE MAKING
night ; fight recklessly, or drink their sugar-cane wine until
their stomachs were well distended.
They were clever in making canoes, which were cut out of
solid trees, sometimes from soft woods, but generally from
When the hair has been dressed, at the expense of much time
and money, the dandy sleeps with his neck on a pillow of this
kind to avoid disarranging the hair.
hard timber, such as cedar, mahogany, and even camwood.
These canoes were sometimes small enough to be handled by
a child, and carried by one person, and so shallow of draught
that they would run easily over a few inches of water ; but
they were also made large enough to take from 60 to 70
94
LEARNING HANDICRAFTS
paddlers, and more than half a ton of cargo. The tree was felled
and roughly shaped in the forest, and then floated to the
town of the maker. It was drawn up out of the river, and a
rough shelter built over it to shade the worker and keep the
canoe from warping. A pieee of Euphorbia candelabra was tied
to it, and the maker was not to drink water while working on
it, otherwise it would leak ; and the charm kept it from
cracking and warded off all evil influences from spoiling it.
They were also expert in making paddles, handles for axes
and hoes, and in carving out chairs from solid blocks of wood.
These latter had four legs and gracefully curving backs, but
cost so much that only chiefs and head-men could afford
them ; and when they went to a drinking-bout at a neigh-
bour’s it was no uncommon sight to see the women carrying
the ehairs and stools to accommodate their lords and masters
in comfort while drinking. The natives, with teaching, made
good carpenters, and were always handy with tools. Our
advent, with new ideas of building and with many tools the
like of which they had never seen before, opened to them
fresh channels of industry ; and as they lost their fear of
the “ witch-doctor ” and were set free from his aecusations of
“ witchcraft ” they gave vent to their skill by imitating our
dwellings, our furniture, and other convenienees that they saw
about our houses, and had seen us make out of the very
materials that they had always had to their hand. They
eagerly exchanged fowls and other kinds of food for our tools,
and we were always ready to help them. Before our arrival
the “ witch-doetor,” by threats of “ witeheraft,” killed every
aspiration of the people and smothered every sign of inventive
genius that exhibited itself. To make anything out of the
ordinary — any new article — was to be regarded as a “ witeh,”
and trouble was sure to follow any suspicion of that kind.
There was no hope for them until they burst the bonds that
held them in thraldom to their “ witch-doetors ” ; but once
released from those miserable trammels, no limits can be set
to their future progress.
95
CHAPTER VI
CUSTOMS: SOME CURIOUS AND
SOME CRUEL
stopping the rain — Causing the river to subside — Appeasing water-spirits —
Saved by his wit — Debit and credit in killing — Methods of drinking —
Purification by fire — Preventing spirits following their relatives — Burying
women alive with their husband’s corpse — Killing a man for a feast —
Honouring the dead — Ceremonies at a grave — A monument to a chief,
IT was raining one day for about three hours when I noticed
a rain-doctor standing on our beach trying to stop the
continuous downpour. He was a tall, upright, old man
of very kindly disposition, and we had often had joking con-
versations on this very subject of his power to stop the rain.
He had frequently, with much emphasis, asserted his possession
of such a power, and assured me that one day he would prove
it to me. It was now raining one of those kinds of rain that
seem as if it had begun at the Creation and would continue
to the crack of doom. From the verandah of my house I
saw the rain-doctor pluck a leaf, and going to the bank of the
river, he placed the leaf on the closed fist of his left hand,
and after extending the arm towards the quarter from which
the wind was blowing, he waved it to and fro in a semicircle,
and then struck the leaf with the open palm of his right hand.
This operation he repeated several times, and at the end of
an hour or so the rain began to abate and at last ceased.
He then came smilingly up to my house, and said, “ You see,
white man, I can stop the rain.”
Of course he could when there was no more rain to fall.
I reminded him of his many failures, and the frequency with
96
CAUSING THE RIVER TO SUBSIDE
which he himself had been caught in the rain ; but such re-
minders neither shook his own faith, nor the people’s, in his
power to stop the rain.
If a family were troubled with much sickness, and a witch-
doetor said it was due to the dissatisfaction of So-and-so’s
spirit (mentioning the name of an important and recently
deceased member of the family), because no offering had
lately been made to him, then the family would kill a slave
and send him with a message to their troublesome deceased
relative, requesting that he would not cause them any further
misfortune. If the deceased belonged to a “ bush ” or inland
tribe, the slave would be killed and buried ; but if the departed
one was a member of a riverine tribe, then the slave was tied
up and thrown into the river. We induced them to stop
this custom, but the more timorous ones for a time com-
promised the matter either by burying brass rods, equal
to the priee of a slave, in the grave, or seattering them in the
river.
The occasion was as follows : The river was rising rapidly
and flooding the low-lying town of Monsembe, and as the
water rose higher and higher the head-men met together to
decide what was to be done to cause the river to subside.
Passing that way at the time and hearing the subject of their
discussion, I listened to the conference, which lasted about
three hours. They suggested one reason after another for
the flood, but at last they were unanimously of the opinion
that the father of one of the men present was angry with his
family for slighting him so long, and to show his disapprobation,
he had caused the river (River Congo) thus to rise, and the
only method of securing its subsidence was to throw a human
sacrifice into the river.
When they arrived at this decision I asked for permission to
speak, which was readily granted. With my walking-stick I
drew an outline of the Congo River, and, putting in some of
the larger tributaries, I told them how the rain was falling
incessantly in those parts, and that if they wanted to keep
97
Q
APPEASING WATER-SPIRITS
the river from rising, the best way was to send their rain-
doetor to Stanley Falls to stop the rain, and t^ms end their
anxiety. And as I spoke I pointed to the old man who was
sitting among the other head-men.
“ Oh,” they exelaimed in ehorus, “ our rain-doetor can stop
the rain falling in these parts ; but his powers will not act in
another distriet. Our only remedy is to throw an old man into
the river.” Old men were cheaper than young ones.
“ Well,” I replied, “ old Mata Bwata (the old chief who was
credited with the rise of the river) was a little man, and I am
a big man ; but one day I shall die and shall be buried here in
Monsembe, and if so little a man ean eause the river to rise
so mueh beeause he is angry with you about a ceremony,
how high do you think I shall eause the water to rise when I
shall be angry with you about murdering men and women in
this manner ? ”
“ Why,” they answered, “ you will be able to make the water
come right above our heads, and we shall all be drowned. All
right, white man,” they eontinued, “ we know what you mean,
and we promise not to throw anyone into the river.”
We found afterwards that they eompromised the matter, for
when they held a mimie “ naval ” battle (with eanoes) in honour
of Mata Bwata’s memory, to appease his dissatisfied spirit, they
seattered six hundred brass rods in the river — the price of a
slave — in lieu of a human sacrifiee.
While on this subject of appeasing water-spirits I may relate
a very amusing incident that came to my knowledge, the chief
actor in which was well known to me. The folk in the Bombi-
linga district had been very unsuccessful in their fishing, and
putting the cause of their non-success down to the wrath of the
water-spirits who had turned aside the fish from their traps and
nets, they desired to conciliate them. With this object they
decided to buy a man and throw him into the river. They
bought a man with one eye, who, on account of that deformity,
was sold cheap, and, tying him, as they thought, securely, they
hurled him from a canoe into the river.
98
SAVED BY HIS WIT
By some means, however, he got loose and swam ashore,
and on his landing the surprised people asked him why he had
returned after being sacrificed to the water-spirits. His smart
reply was : “ The water-spirits did not want any one-eyed
folk down there, so they loosened the ropes and sent me
ashore.” By his wit he saved his life, but another and more
perfectly formed person was bought and thrown into the
river in his stead. This happened some years before we went
to live in the district, but the one-eyed man I knew very well,
and more than one person told me of the incident.
Up to the early months of 1890 eight brothers lived at
Bonjoko — a town three miles below Monsembe. For some
unknown reason their slaves beat to death the chief of that
town. Now slave-owners were held responsible for the actions
of their slaves, so the brothers had to flee for their lives ;
but one of them was killed before he could escape, and the
others came to Monsembe and built a set of houses with a
strong palisade round them. They lived thus for nine months
in apparent security. A chief, however, is worth two ordinary
men, and the family of the murdered head-man did not forget
that one more life was owing to them, but they waited their
time and opportunity.
Some nine months afterwards a Monsembe ^lave fell from
a palm tree and was picked up dead. All that day and the
next the other slaves of the town danced and sang at the funeral
festivities of the dead man, and during the noise of their crying
and chanting dirges some Bonjoko people entered the town,
rushed into the stockade, and, killing one of the brothers
there, they cut open the head of another, and chased a third
one into the bush, where they speared him to death.
If only one brother had been killed the feud would have
ended, and reconciliation between the families would have
followed ; but in affairs of this kind they have a credit and
debit side, i.e. the chief of Bonjoko was a great man, so it
needed two deaths to expiate his. The Bonjoko people had
killed one brother before the family had escaped from the
99
DEBIT AND CREDIT IN KILLING
town, and now they desired to kill one other only to square
the account ; but being divided in their attack into two or
three parties, acting independently, neither knew what the
other had done or was doing, two brothers were killed, during
the raid, instead of one. Thus the Bonjoko family owed one
life to the brothers, and according to custom they should not
have stopped hostilities until there was a clear balance-sheet.
The remnant of the brothers could move about freely, and
needed no longer to live enclosed in a stockade. It was now
the turn of the other family to go in fear of their lives. The
brothers took the bodies of their slain relatives to Bonjoko
for burial ; and a short time afterwards made blood-brotherhood
with the other family, and the blood feud w’as thus finished.
It leaked out eventually that the Monsembe head-men, who
had little or no sympathy with the brothers, had received 1000
brass rods not to oppose the Bonjoko family when they came
for vengeance, although the head-men had accepted large
presents from the brothers on the promise of protection and
the right of asylum in their town. This treachery was con-
demned by public opinion, but those who condemned it only
did so because they had had no share of the spoils.
The principal drink, apart from water, was 7wanga= sugar-
cane wine. The canes were cut into two-feet lengths and the
outside skin peeled off. The juicy pith was put into a long,
strong, canoe-shaped trough, where it was pounded into pulp
with heavy pestles. By the side of the trough was a strong
cross-stick fixed to two stout uprights, and from the cross-
stick was suspended by many loops a cord-plaited mat about
16 inches wide and 2 feet 6 inches long. At the lower end of
the mat was a stout stick hanging from the bottom loops of
the mat. The operator took a large handful of crushed fibre
from the trough, and placing it on the mat he gave a twist
to the lower stick, folding the mat over on to the fibre, then
with both hands he turned the lower stick again and again,
until no more juice could be pressed from the enclosed fibre.
The juice ran from the rope mat into a conduit below, and on
100
METHODS OF DRINKING
into a large jar at the bottom. This proeess was repeated until
all the crushed fibre had been pressed in the mat. This operation
was generally begun about 4 a.m. and completed by 8 or 9 a.m.
A little old sugar-cane wine was added to the new, and by
3 or 4 p.m. the whole jar, containing from eight to twelve
gallons, would be fizzing with fermentation. A jar of four
gallons could be bought for two yards of calico.
A man would buy a jar of wine and beat his drum in a
certain way to call his friends, who, after a few minutes, began
to gather from various parts of the town, each followed by
a wife carrying a stool and some article out of which her
husband was to drink. One had a bottle, another a saucepan,
another an old coffee-pot, another a jug, another a glass or
an enamel mug. A man was chosen to dole out the wine with
a small wooden bailer, and no matter how large the vessel
offered, the recipient only received so many dips of the bailer,
and thus all shared alike.
During the sugar-cane season drinking-bouts were common
and would last from eight to ten days. Different head-men
would buy on succeeding days large jars of manga, and would
beat their drums to cal! their cronies and friends to the “ drink.”
They would sit in a circle round the jar of sugar-cane wine,
and one would solemnly ladle it out, but no one would drink
until all were served. Women, who sat behind their husbands
at these carousals, drank only what their husbands gave them,
and I have seen only three drunken women. This was not
because the women had any aversion to drinking or to drunken-
ness, but because they could not procure the liquor. The
making of the “ wine ” was a laborious process, hence, while
the women cultivated and prepared the canes, the men made
the wine and took care to drink it. Drinking-bouts were
always followed by a certain amount of sickness, as fever and
diarrhoea, and a complete loss of appetite for a time. I think
the rough, sharp pieces of fibre found in the unstrained wine
irritated the bowels and brought on dysentery ; and the ir-
regular lives they lived during these bouts induced fever.
101
PURIFICATION BY FIRE
The majority drank in the ordinary way, but some in a
manner peculiar to themselves. One sucked his wine through
a reed ; another had a cloth dropped over his head while
drinking ; another placed some fine-shredded grass over the
mouth of his bottle and quaffed his wine through that ; another
took a piece of plantain leaf and, making a channel down the
middle, put one end into his mouth and poured the wine
out of his bottle on to the top end of his leaf, whence it ran
down the groove into his mouth. All these various modes
of drinking are rigidly followed out of regard to the strict
injunctions of some “ medicine man,” who has told them that
in order to prevent the return of a sickness from which they
have suffered, or to escape certain diseases, they must drink
in such and such a manner, or not at all. When a man was
“ on the booze ” he stuck a leaf in his hair to show it, and then
no notice was taken of any stupid or insulting remarks he
might make, or of any business transaction he might enter
upon.
One day I saw an old woman whom I knew very well sitting
in the centre of a ring of fire, and upon inquiry I found that
she had had much to do with preparing a corpse for burial,
and at the close of the ceremony she had to be purified. A
ring of fire made of small sticks encircled her ; she took a leaf,
dried it, crunched it in her fist, and sprinkled it on the fire,
moving her hands, palms downwards, over the fire ring.
When the fire had died out a witch-doctor took hold of
the little finger of her left hand with the little finger
of his right hand, and, lifting her arm, he drew her out
of the fire circle purified. She was now supposed to be
cleansed from all contamination with the dead.
Walking one day in Monsembe I saw an incident that
recalled Burns’ “ Tam o’Shanter ” to my mind. There had
been a death in a family, and the relatives had just performed
all the necessary rites and ceremonies, and were returning to
to their homes. A small trench some twenty feet long was dug
with a hoe. The relatives took up their position on the side
102
Photo by\
[A’rt/, C. y. Dodds
A Boloki Woman and Child
The parallel lines of cicatrices running: from the neck to the navel are for ornamentation.
The ring of solid brass round the neck w eighs about 12 lbs., but some weigh even 28 lbs.
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ij.
BURYING WOMEN ALIVE
of the trench nearest to the grave, the medicine-man stood
on the other side, and his assistant was placed at the end of
the trench with a large calabash of water. At a signal the water
was poured into the trench, and while it was running the
medicine-man took each person by the hand, and mumbling
an incantation he pulled him, or her, over the running water.
When all had been pulled over, one by one, the water was
allowed to run until the calabash was empty. I asked the
reason of the ceremony, and they told me it w'as to keep the
spirit of their deceased, and buried, relative from following
them. It was very evident from the rites observed that they
thought the spirits could not cross running water.
One evening I heard a considerable amount of shouting and
screaming, and on going to the scene of the excitement I
found two women strongly bound who were weeping most
bitterly, and begging to be set free. I asked them the reason
for being thus tied, and they replied, “ You know our husband,
Mangwele, is dead. He is to be buried to-morrow morning,
and we are to be buried alive with his body. Untie us, white
man, and save us from such a death.”
I knew the custom of the district very well, but had never
been brought into contact so closely with it. In every family
of importance there were one or two women called mwila
ndaku, which meant that when their husband died they were
to be buried alive \vith his corpse, unless in the meantime they
bore children, when other women took their place. Every
time they heard their name it was a reminder of the awful
fate that awaited them.
From my heart I pitied the women, and turning to the
members of the family I pleaded and remonstrated with them
in such a way, and with such God-given eloquence, that
they at last said, “ All right, white man, we will give up this
custom.” They untied the women, who at once began to
dance about us, relieved that they had been rescued from such
a horrible fate.
Next morning the men came and asked me to attend the
103
KILLING A MAN FOR A FEAST
funeral, to see for myself that they really intended to keep
their promise. I went, and for the first time in the history
of that district a man of importance was buried without
living women being inhumed with the corpse. Now I knew
all the wives, children, and slaves of that man, and whenever
I asked for them, they were able to show them — a proof that
they had not secretly buried any after I had left the grave ;
and as only members of the family, or slaves owned by the
deceased, would follow and attend upon the spirit of the
departed, I felt sure that no outsiders had been surreptitiously
substituted. From that time they used to request that either
I or one of my colleagues would attend important funerals,
to see that they kept their promise. We were exceedingly
glad to stop such a cruel custom.
We were not always successful in our efforts to save life,
as the following incident will show : The people at Bonjoko
determined to have a great feast. They bought as fat a slave
as they could procure, broke his legs and arms, and fed him
for three days, while they made a great quantity of sugar-
cane wine. I made every possible endeavour to save him,
but utterly failed to do so, and on the third day he was killed
and the horrible orgy was held. That was in the early years
of our Mission ; but in after years they became heartily ashamed
of the whole affair.
When a man of any position died his wives would throw off
their dresses and wear old rags (sometimes they would go
absolutely naked), pick up anything belonging to him — his
chair, spear, pipe, mug, knife, shield, or blanket — anything
that first came to hand, and having covered their bodies with
a coating of clay, they would parade the town in ones, or twos,
or threes, crying bitterly and calling upon him to return to
them. They would stop at times in their crying and say,
“ He is gone to So-and-so, we will go and find him,” and away
they would start off in a business-like fashion in their pre-
tended search for him. This parading they would keep up
for a day or two, and then women of the town would bedeck
104
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CEREMONIES AT A GRAVE
themselves with climbing plants, vines, leaves, and bunches
of twigs, and forming themselves into a procession they
would march through the town chanting the praises of the
deceased. Men would paint and arm themselves as for a
fight, and would imitate the daring acts of the departed as
a warrior ; and if he had been remarkable for fighting on the
river, they would arrange a sham canoe fight in his honour.
Fifteen or twenty canoes, filled with men armed with spears,
shields, and guns, would go through all the manoeuvres of
a mimic river fight, firing their guns, pretending to throw their
spears, or deflect them with their shields, circling round each
other amid shouts of their prowess, or laughter at those who,
losing their balance, fell into the river. Those ashore would
crowd along the bank and yell out directions, approbation,
and encouragement to their friends in the canoes. It was
an amusing and interesting sight, and seemed to be thoroughly
enjoyed both by actors and spectators alike. They called this
praising or honouring the dead.
I was asked on one oecasion to attend the burial of a promi-
nent man of the district, and was interested in seeing the
following rites performed : After the coffin had been lowered
into the grave, men came forward, and, taking a spear, they
called upon the spirits of those whom the deceased had killed
in times of war to attend their conqueror in the spirit world,
and every time a name was mentioned or an order given
a thrust was made with a spear. The deceased had killed
seven persons, and their skulls were arranged round the base
of the wild fig tree just in front of his house. Different men
called on the different spirits, and so far as I could ascertain
it was those who knew all the particulars of the slain, and the
circumstances attending their death, that had to call on them
to attend and obey the deceased. It seemed to me that he
gave details of the person killed in order that the spirits
should make no mistake as to who was meant, and described
the manner of death that there might be no misapprehension
about a claim on their service being established. Some spears
105
A MONUMENT TO A CHIEF
and knives were put in the coffin, and some brass rods (the
currency) were laid in the grave for the use of the departed.
Some months later a shelter was built over the grav'e,
with a rough table under it. On this table mugs, bottles,
saucepans, plates, etc., were arranged ; and at the sides, and
under the table, stools, chairs, large wine-jars were put ;
but everything was “ killed,” i.e. broken. All the natives
told me that the articles were “ killed ” to keep people from
stealing them, yet they had an idea that the things thus dis-
played not only served as a memorial to the deceased, but
helped him in some indefinable way in the spirit land. Un-
doubtedly they had forgotten the reason for “ killing ” the
articles. The stealing reason was not sufficient to meet the
case, for there was too wholesome a fear of the revenge the
spirits could inflict, and detection was too easy for anyone to
be so foolhardy as to rob a grave. No, this display of useful
goods served three purposes : it was a “ monument ” to the
important man buried beneath it ; it was a proof of his own,
and his family’s, wealth ; and lastly, and probably the original
object of the articles being placed on the grave, they were
conveniences to increase his comfort and prestige in the spirit
world to which he had gone.
106
CHAPTER VII
SOCIAL LIFE AND ORGANIZATION
Salutations— Sneezing — Land is communal — River rights — Slaves and their
position — Laws of inheritance — Sons given as pawns— Masters’ responsi-
bility— Debtor and creditor — Rules for collecting debts — Rules for fight-
ing— The evening meal — Dividing food — Greediness condemned — The
village dance — The impromptu song — Its effect on various people.
UDENESS, discourtesy, and lack of sociality are
greatly condemned by the Boloki, and will be punished
in longa, or the nether regions to which their spirits
go after death ; hence they are very punctilious about saluting
each other whenever they meet, visit, or pass one another.
The following are their principal salutations.
Morning :
Olongo 0! You are awake. Answer: Nalongoi 0! I am
awake.
Ohimi 0 ! You are out. Answer : Nahimi 0 ! I am out.
Later in the day, when a man is passing a neighbour’s house,
he will say to the one sitting inside or outside his house :
Ojali O ! or OV o moi O ! You are alive (exist or sit), or. You
are there. Answer : Najali 0 ! or NaV oni 0 ! I am alive, or
I am here.
If the resident sees the visitor first he says :
Oy’ oni O ! You have come here. Answer : Nay' oni 0 ! I
have come here.
If the visitor stays chatting for a little time, he says on
leaving :
Nake 0 ! I go. And the other responds : Oke O ! You go.
If a man is ill he is greeted thus :
107
SALUTATIONS
Okeli boti 0 ! You are a little better {bolau is understood).
After his illness the greeting is : Okeli bolau 0 ! You are
good, i.e. You are better. And the answer to the first is :
Nakeli boti 0 ! I am a little better ; and to the second : Nakeli
bolau 0 ! I am well.
To leave out the 0 ! is for the greeting and response to lack
cordiality, and the emphasis on the 0 ! and the tone in which
it is uttered are indicative of the feeling those greeting one
another have for each other. Bwanda is the word used in
greeting a superior, and the answer is Bika (these words have
lost their meaning) ; but a superior greets an equal with the
same salutations as an inferior does an equal, i.e. : Ojali 0 !
Obimi 0 ! Oy' oni 0 ! etc.
There is another salutation used by a person to an equal,
the answer to which is very various ; and, in fact, every person
has his own reply according to his circumstances and the
way in which he thinks his neighbours regard him at the time.
One man greets another by saying, Losako, Blessing on you ;
and he replies, Ngai nkumbaku, I am one who is cursed, i.e.
the people in the town are always cursing him, or he fancies
they are. Or the reply may be, Bansina, They hate me, i.e.
the folk in the town do not like him ; or Ngai nsu ya mai, I am
a fish, i.e. Everybody likes me just as everybody likes fish ; or,
Nakalela bana ba ngai, I am weeping for my children, said by
one mourning over some great misfortune or bereavement.
A vain person arrogates to himself a phrase indicative of his
egotism, while a despondent one uses a sentence that does
not truly reflect the attitude of his neighbours towards him,
although in his humility he may think so.
There is a curious saying after one has sneezed, viz. Ngai nya,
motu mosusu, “ It is not I, but someone else,” and this is
accompanied by a vigorous clapping of the hands and snapping
of the fingers, expressive of great astonishment. It means :
I am surprised that you want to call away my spirit (the spirit
is supposed to escape through the nostrils), I really am not the
person you think I am, but somebody else.
108
LAND IS COMMUNAL
The natives are fond of water, and bath frequently during
a hot day ; and children are bathed regularly twice a day.
A mother takes her infant to the river, and, gripping it tightly
just under the right armpit, she dips it beneath the water.
And after holding it there many moments, she will lift it out,
and just as it regains its breath to start crying, down it will
go again. This is repeated about a dozen times, and then
rubbing the superfluous water off with the palm of her hand,
she holds it out in the sun for a few moments to dry. Riverine
people can remain under the water for a long time while
attending their fish-nets, and this habit they have gained from
those infantile experiences, when it was either holding the
breath, or drinking a quantity of dirty river water.
They wash their mouths both before and after meals, and
generally carry a native tooth-brush (a piece of cane three
inches long and frayed at one end) about with them, and use
it frequently during the day. To this habit they probably
owe the beautiful white teeth so usually found among the
natives. Both men and women occasionally pay a hairdresser
to comb out their hair nicely, and plait it into three plaits —
two standing out at right angles to the temples and one standing
out above the forehead. They also frequently rub their
bodies with palm-oil and camwood powder, and will sometimes
blacken their eyebrows.
The land surrounding a town belongs to the people who live
in the town. Certain landmarks, as streams, forests, etc.,
are agreed upon as boundaries. If there is a town near the
boundary the land reaches right up to the boundary of the
next town, but if the town is some distance from the forest
boundary, then the ground between the boundaries is neutral
land in which the folk of both towns can hunt, cut timber,
etc., as they please. Within the boundary the people of the
town are free to make their farms and build their houses
where they like, provided the land is not already occupied by
someone else. Priority of occupation is the only title recognized.
There is no such thing as unclaimed land. It is either within
109
RIVER RIGHTS
the boundary and is claimed by the town living on it, or it
is between the boundaries and is for the benefit of the near
towns as neutral hunting, etc., but no one can sell that land
without the consent of those towns that are mutually benefited
by it.
If a slave belonging to a man of the town cultivated a piece
of land owned by her master’s town, she had full rights over
it, and her master is careful to see that those rights are not
infringed. Of course, she cannot sell the ground, but she can
sell the farm as a farm and the stuff growing on it, and the
person who buys the “ stuff ” can continue to cultivate it, if
she is an inhabitant of the town owning the land, if not, she
can let the produce mature there, and when she has removed
the said produce the land will revert again to the town.
Men, women, and children can own, for the time being,
the land that they have cleared for farming purposes ; and can
own slaves whom they have bought or inherited. I have
known a case in which a slave owned a slave, and that slave —
the property of another slave — owned a slave also. When we
bought a piece of land in 1890, the price given was divided
among the head-men in the town according to their importance,
and they gave a part of their shares to their followers — members
of their family, but not to their slaves. The State told us we
could take the plot of land we wanted for nothing ; but we
recognized the natives’ rights in their land, and thus paid them
compensation for relinquishing those rights to us. If we had
not done so, the natives would have regarded us as interlopers
who had stolen their land, and I think their view would have
been the right one.
The river running by the land belonging to a town is the
joint property of the townsfolk for fishing purposes. People
of other towns are not allowed to fish there. There are, how-
ever, large tracts of neutral water where anyone can fish with
trap or net, provided no one else is fishing in that spot. These
fishing rights are so well recognized that men never think of
fishing along our bank without first seeking our permission.
no
LAWS OF INHERITANCE
Slaves can be sold by their owner ; and they can also be
killed by their master,' and no one can prosecute him for
murder — he has simply destroyed his own property, and
“ surely a man can do what he likes with his own goods.”
Slaves are, as a rule, treated well, for they can easily run away,
and their owner will then lose the money invested in them.
It is to the owner’s interest to look properly after them —
to house them, to provide them with wives or husbands, and
maintain their rights as members of the community. I have
known some few slaves run away ; but I have known more
than a few to be treated like members of the family. The
better the slaves are treated, the more secure are their masters
of their services and value.
The eldest son takes his father’s title, and also inherits
a larger proportion of the property than his brothers. The
amount depends on the number of sons — if there are three
sons, the eldest takes a half, the second son two-thirds of the
remaining half, and the last son the rest. The property of
a woman goes to her husband, and, failing him, to her own
sons, or daughters. The sons of a free woman take priority
over those by a slave wife. On the Upper Congo father-right
is the rule, whereas on the Lower Congo mother-right is the
recognized native law.
Sons inherit their father’s widows, and in sharing them out
it is arranged for a man not to have his own mother as a part
of his share of the women. The son, on becoming possessed
of his father’s widows, can either keep them as his wives, or,
if they are slave women, he can sell them ; and if they are
free women he can arrange for them to marry someone else,
and keep the marriage money paid for them.
Failing direct male heirs, the daughter (or daughters)
takes the estate ; but she gives the wives to some of her near
of kin, such as male cousins, etc., but should there be no
direct male or female heirs, the family clan takes possession
of the estate and divides it among themselves.
When there are male heirs, and the estate is divided up,
111
SONS GIVEN AS PAWNS
the daughter (or daughters) takes as her portion the women
who were given to her father as her marriage money by her
husband ; and these she gives to her brother by the same mother
as herself, so that that brother reeeives his share of the estate
as a son, and also the women (if still alive) given as a marriage
portion for his sister. In recognition of this gift the fortunate
brother will make frequent presents of sugar-cane wine and
meat to his sister’s husband, as this increment to his wealth has
come indirectly from him.
Slaves number about 25 per cent of the population. Some
were born slaves, others were seized for debt, a few were
captured in war, and some had sold themselves to pay their
debts, incurred by adultery, or by the loss of a lawsuit, the
expenses of which they could not meet. Some were sold to
pay the family debts. It is also the custom for a father to
give a son in pawn as security for a loan. The status of a pawn
is somewhat higher than that of a slave, for he may be re-
deemed at any moment, and thus again become a free person.
The one who holds such a pawn cannot sell him, nor pass him
on to anyone \vithout the consent of the pawner, for the
family may arrive wdth the redemption money, and if the
pawn cannot be produced the pawnee will have to pay the
family three or four times the value of the pawn.
There are no absolutely independent men and women
apart from head-men and chiefs. All the rest are attached to
head-men as relatives, slaves, pawns, or by a voluntary sur-
render of themselves to a chief. If the family of a free man
dies off, or becomes very weak — too w’eak to defend itself
against the aggressiveness of the other families in the town,
such a free man attaches himself (and any relatives dependent
on him) to the head-man of any one of the stronger families
he may select. He then practically becomes a member of that
family. Their quarrels are his, and his quarrels are theirs.
His position is that of a free man owning fealty to the head of
his adopted family, and he is never treated as a slave. If he
had tried to stand alone in his weakness some quarrel would
112
MASTERS’ RESPONSIBILITIES
have been picked with him by one of the more powerful families,
and eventually he and his would have become slaves. A slave
is called mombo, from omba, to buy ; a pawn is ndanga=a.
token ; but a free man who attaches himself to a chief is called
ejalinya, probably from jala=to live with,
A slave boy is not permitted to use either camwood powder
or oil on his body ; but should he please his master one day
by bringing him a present of a fine fish, or a large piece of
meat, or some cloth and brass rods worthy of his master’s
acceptance, his owner on receiving the offering will rub his
hands over his slave’s face, and say, “ Your skin is very bad.
Why don’t you rub it with camwood powder and oil ? ” and
from that time he is allowed to use the cosmetic so prized by
all the natives.
As a rule the best dressed men in a town are the slaves,
and the worst dressed men the masters. They are afraid
to parade their wealth for fear of charges of witehcraft on
account of deflecting other folk’s goods to their own store ;
and also a man can more consistently and more easily refuse
a loan on the plea of poverty, in old clothes, than he can if
he is gorgeously arrayed. Of eourse, on special occasions,
the masters will wear plenty of good cloth, and decorate
their bodies with powdered camwood and oil. A slave can
dress his hair like a free man ; but if he has a beard he must
leave it loose, for only free men are permitted to plait their
beards.
The master is responsible for the actions of his slaves.
I remember a case in 1892 when a slave attempted the life
of the head-man of his master’s town. His attempt failed,
and he escaped to a distant town ; but the master was tied
up, killed, and eaten. It is not at all improbable that if the
master had been a more influential man some other way
would have been found to meet the case — a heavy fine — as
the attempt was unsueeessful. While theoretically a master
is liable for his slave’s debts, yet he will repudiate them on
the ground that the lender had no right to advance goods to
113
H
DEBTOR AND CREDITOR
a slave without first ascertaining whether the master will be
responsible for the payment for them or not. A slave badly
treated by his master breaks the eboko, or fetish saucepan,
belonging to a witeh-doctor. Then the witch-doctor demands
such a heavy price from the master, as he is responsible for
his slave’s action, that he prefers to leave the slave as com-
pensation in the witch-doctor’s hands to paying such heavy
redemption money. The sum demanded is usually more
than the price of a slave ; but public opinion is very pronounced
against a slave who breaks the eboko for insufficient reasons.
The fear of this has a strong deterrent effect on bad, passionate-
tempered masters in restraining them from ill-treating their
slaves.
Labour is not regarded as a degradation, and those who
are skilled in smithing, canoe-making, etc., not only become
comparatively wealthy, but are regarded with great respect
on account of their skill. Boys like to accompany their fathers
on fishing and trading expeditions ; and girls go with their
mothers to the farms as soon as they can walk, and toy hoes
are given them to play with while on the farm. These journeys
to the farms or to the fishing camps are a change to the young
folk, and are much enjoyed by them.
Among the Boloki there are neither markets nor market-
places. If a person has anything for sale he walks through
the town calling out its name like a London hawker. Some-
times a person catches a fish that is taboo to him, and he will
hawk it through the town to try to exchange it for another
that he ean eat.
In their business transactions credit is frequently given,
and for sueh credit no interest is expected. To recover a
debt a creditor first duns the debtor until he is tired, then he
breaks the pots and saucepans, and anything he finds out-
side the debtor’s house, and finishes by telling him that on
a certain day he wll call again for the money. If the debtor
then fails to pay, the creditor will collect a few of his friends,
and together they will go and lie in ambush near the farms
114
DEBTOR AND CREDITOR
until a wife of the debtor comes along, when they will pounce
upon her and take her to their town. The woman will kick,
struggle, and scream for the sake of appearances ; but she
knows that she will be lightly tied and well treated.
The debtor will hear of the capture of his wife, and, supposing
he owes 1000 brass rods, he will collect the money as quickly
as possible, and take it with 500 extra rods, which he will
now have to pay to his creditor to compensate him and his
friends for the trouble of tying up the woman and the cost
of feeding her. As a woman is worth nearly 3000 rods, it pays
the debtor to redeem his property by paying his debt and the
sum demanded for expenses.
If the debt is for 1000 rods the creditor may tie up one woman,
but if he ties up two women he puts himself in the wrong,
for the value of one woman more than covers the debt and
expenses. If the debt is for 3000 or 4000 rods, the creditor
may capture two women, and so in proportion to the debt.
It is very seldom that a woman is seized for any sum less than
500 rods. If the debt is not paid within a reasonable time,
the creditor can keep the woman as his wife, or if she happens
to be a slave, he can sell her. If the debtor has no wives,
then a member, or members, of his family can be seized on
the same principle as shown above. Sometimes a creditor
will tie up a person belonging to the town of his debtor ; but
this is rarely done except in cases of hostility between the
towns. These debts are generally incurred either in buying
a large canoe, or a wife, or in losing a lawsuit.
A village may have from twenty to five hundred huts in it,
and even more. The rows of houses are generally built in
parallel lines to the river ; and a head-man possesses one or
more lines, according to the size of his family or clan. He may
have many wives, slaves and their wives, “ pawns,” and de-
pendents, and consequently own several rows of houses ; or
he may be the eldest of several brothers who with their wives,
slaves, etc., jointly own several rows of dwellings. The former
head-man is a greater man than the latter, he has more prestige
115
RULES FOR FIGHTING
in the town, and has greater influence in its palavers, for such
a man is the head of a powerful family, each unit of which
may number more than the brothers, their wives, and slaves
put together.
The m6o/ba= village, town, locality, may consist of from
20 to 150 families, numbering anything up to 2000 or 3000
people, or it may mean only one or two families not numbering
more than 50 or 60 people ; but it does not matter how large
or how small the mboka is, it is independent, self-governing,
and recognizes no over-lord. There is the head of the family,
whose word is law to his own relatives and immediate de-
pendents living in his section of the town. Then there are
the heads of the families who meet together to arrange the
affairs of the town, and to decide on any course of action
in relation to the neighbouring towns. Some are heads of
larger and richer families than others ; and such men neces-
sarily have more influence, and their words carry greater
weight than the utterances of poorer and smaller men. The
lives of the people are rendered pleasant, or otherwise, accord-
ing to the temper and ambitions of these head-men.
The various families forming a town live, as a rule, at peace
with each other ; and if there is a dispute they try to settle it
by “ holding a palaver.” But if the quarrel develops into
a fight, then sticks are the weapons used, as guns and spears
are rarely, if ever, brought out in these miniature “ civil
wars.” They combine as a whole against a common foe.
The family that causes the quarrel leads the van in a war,
and if only the offended family attacks the offending family,
the other families of the offender’s town stand armed ready
to defend their dependents and property, should the offenders
prove unable to repulse the attack. But if the offended family
brings the several families of its town to attack the offenders,
then the other head-men and their followers will join to repel
the attack, for it is no longer a quarrel between two families of
different towns, but a fight between town and town. Thus
a family combines to fight a family, and a town to fight a town,
116
THE EVENING MEAL
and I have known one case in which a district joined its forces
to fight a district.
The evening meal is practically the only meal of the day,
and every effort is made to render it as tasty as possible with
the limited ingredients at the disposal of the woman cook.
Cassava figures as the principal article in every menu ; and
for this meal it is commonly prepared by soaking it for three
days, and then after peeling, coring, and dividing it into
quarters, it is steamed, and comes out looking white and
appetizing. Either fish, or meat when procurable, is stewed
in a small saucepan or roasted over the fire, or wrapped in
leaves and covered with red-hot embers ; but if there is neither
fish nor meat, then a sauce of pounded leaves, red peppers,
and palm-oil is concocted, and the whole is washed down
with gulps of water. They prefer to keep sugar-cane vine
for their drinking-bouts and for their cannibal feasts, the latter,
in their view, demanding something better than water.
The food is served first to the elders (male), and if visitors
are present they take precedence according to their age.
As a rule the members of a family are polite to one another, and
any departure from the usual forms of courtesy is regarded
with disapprobation by the other members of the family.
Guests are treated with hospitality, and are protected by the
family they are visiting ; and I never knew a guest come to
harm during a visit. Men and women do not eat together,
as it is accounted immodest and indecent for a woman to eat
with a man ; and it is infra dig. for a man to partake of his
food with a woman. They eat by themselves at some
little distance, and usually out of sight and hearing of the
men.
In dividing food, such as meat or fish, the one who divides
it takes the portion left after all the others have selected
their shares, and in this way they have a guarantee that
all the portions are equal in size and quality. If a saucepan
of fish and another of cassava are put before five or six persons
for them to eat, no division is made, but all help themselves
117
GREEDINESS CONDEMNED
from the same saucepans, yet each will be very careful not to
eat more than his fair share. But when a fish, or a lump of
meat, is given to half a dozen men, or women, they appoint
one to divide it into six lots, and the one to whom this very
doubtful honour is given is careful to make all the lots equal —
in bone, flesh, and fat — for he knows that the others will choose
their portions before himself. Any greediness is condemned,
and if persisted in others will refuse to eat with the offender,
and he becomes an object of ridicule to the rest of the family
and in the village.
The following story, which I often heard related around
their evening fires, will well illustrate how the natives regarded
any greediness about food :
“ Mokwete possessed a large number of wives ; and one day
he made a trap and eventually snared an animal which he
carried to his town and told his wives to cook. When they
had cooked the meat they took him his share, and reserved
a portion for themselves. Mokwete ate his meat alone, but
it did not satisfy him, for having so many wives the portion
of meat that fell to him was rather small.
“ By and by he killed another animal, and he said to him-
self : ‘ I kill plenty of animals, but get very little meat for
myself, because my wives are so numerous.’ When he reached
the forest near his town he disguised his voice and shouted :
‘ Wives of Mokwete, wives of Mokwete.’
“ They answered, ‘ E ! ’ thinking it was a spirit calling them
from the bush.
“ Then he said : ‘ When your husband comes with meat,
you must not eat any of it ; if you do, you will die.’
“ In a little time he picked up the animal and went on
to the town. The women cooked the meat and brought it
all to him. He asked them why they had not taken any of
it, and they told him what they had heard from one of the
bush spirits. Mokwete ate all the meat, was well filled, and
congratulated himself on the success of the ruse. He repeated
this trick again and again.
118
2^
I
OF Boloki Women at Mobeka
THE VILLAGE DANCE
“ One day Mokwete’s son went into the bush, and while
there he heard the sound of someone coming, so he hid himself.
In a little time a man arrived and threw something with a
thud to the ground, and then he heard a voice say : ‘ Wives of
Mokwete, wives of Mokwete, when your husband comes
with meat you must not eat it ; if you do, you will die.’
“ The lad, on looking out, saw that it was his father who
was deceiving his mothers, and keeping him and the other
children from having their proper share of the meat. He hurried
home and told his mothers all that he had seen and heard,
but they disputed his word. However, one of them went to
look, and saw that it was really the husband who had been
telling them not to eat the meat. She went and told the others,
and they decided to run away.
“ While Mokwete was out hunting one day, his wives broke
their saucepans, put out their fires and fled ; and upon reaching
their various towns they told their families why they had left
their husband — on account of his greediness — and everybody
justified them.”
Now Mokwete would return to a fireless hearth, an empty
village, and no one to cook for him and wait on him. And
I have heard the folk snap their fingers, and say : “ Mokwete
was well punished,” and there was no one to pity him. “ When
a man buys a fish or a piece of meat he should share it with
the wife who cooks it for him ; and when he kills an animal he
should share it with all his wives.” The children received
their share of meat or fish through their mothers.
While the hearth is the centre of a woman’s family life,
for her children (if she is fortunate enough to have any) will
gather around it at sundown to watch the bubbling sauce-
pans on the fire, and her husband may occasionally be found
there playing with his youngsters, or chatting to his wife,
yet the dance is the real centre and expression of the social
life of the village. Is there a death ? Then relatives and friends
will show their sympathy, not by sitting around talking over
the good qualities of the departed, but by dancing their best
119
THE IMPROMPTU DANCE
and chanting the praises of him who has so lately gone to that
mysterious longa, or nether regions, where all spirits find their
home for a time. And standing round the funeral dances will
be the whole village, applauding the agile or chaffing the
awkward. Is there a marriage ? Then relatives and boon
companions of the old bachelor days are invited, and after
the feast a dance is arranged, and although some of the legs
will be unsteady, through too much sugar-cane wine, yet all
present, both dancers and spectators, will be in a jovial mood.
On moonlight nights the drums will be brought out, reed
rattles, ferret bells, and anything else that wall tinkle, will
be tied around the ankles, the men and women will form lines
opposite each other, and for hours the dancers will jump,
twist, and wriggle to and fro in the most approved fashion
to the tap, tap, or boom, boom of the rhythmic drum. All
distinctions are forgotten for the time being. The skilled
and the unskilled, the poor and the rich, the slave and the free,
are all mixed in indistinguishable confusion. It is the best
dancer, be he poor and a slave, who is the cynosure of all
eyes and the object of all their praises. And as the dance
proceeds the dancers sing in unison some recitativ'e song,
while the onlookers keep time to song and dance by clapping
their hands and swaying their bodies to and fro.
The greedy man, the coward, the thief, the scamp who
disregards the feelings of others and rides rough-shod over
the social and communal customs, the man who is accused
of witchcraft and refuses to take the ordeal, and the incestuous,
are all put into the songs which are sung at these village
dances ; and there is no more powerful factor in influencing
the native to good and evil, inciting him to reckless bravery,
or deterring him from committing some foolish deed, than to
put his name into an impromptu song at a village dance.
The paragraph in our newspaper is read by comparatively
few people, and only a small percentage of those who read it
know the person mentioned ; but the song is sung, night after
night, by all the village — the very neighbours of the one thus
120
ITS EFFECT ON VARIOUS PEOPLE
held up to ridicule or honour. The village song inspires the
daring deeds in time of war, it brands and shames the cowards,
it considerably restrains the rascals, and maddens to the verge
of suicide the fool who so badly treats his wives that they run
away and leave him a cold hearth by which to sit.
CHAPTER VIII
MARRIAGE AND CHILD-BEARING
Young girls betrothed — The bespoke money — Marriage money — Dressing
the new wife — A large looking-glass — A woman can choose her husband —
Divorce — No great desire for children — Storage for baby spirits — Treat-
ment of twins — Snake omen — Woman’s totem — The mother-in-law —
Polygamy and its results— Monogamy and its results— Better morality —
More children— Purer women— Better home-life.
Young girls and even babies are betrothed in marriage,
and payments made for them long before they are old
enough either to understand the contract or give their
consent. On the marriage money being completed the man
takes a brass bracelet, and in the presence of witnesses he
puts it on the child’s arm, saying, “ This is my wife.” When
the girl arrives at a suitable age, and sometimes even before
puberty, she is taken by her parents, together with some
sugar-cane wine, to her husband, and handed over to him ;
and on the man giving the parents a present the transaction
is completed. Should, however, the child die, another is
put in her place ; but if that is impossible, the money is re-
turned. Sometimes a girl objects to being handed over in
this way to a man whom she dislikes, and if her protests
are disregarded she will run away to a neighbouring town
and select her own husband, if she has not already done so,
and the parents will have to make the best bargain they can
in the way of marriage money with their new son-in-law.
They would be at an obvious disadvantage, as their customer
would already be in possession of the “ goods.”
122
THE BESPOKE MONEY
If a man in search of a wife sees an unattached young
woman whom he likes he may speak to the girl or to her
father first, and if they — the girl and her parents — are agree-
able, he will call his friends as witnesses and go to the father’s
house. The girl will then be called out, and the man will take
his spear, and going into the centre of the crowd he will stick
the spear in the ground, and say : “ If the girl loves me, let
her pull up the spear.” Thereupon the girl Avill step forward,
and pulling up the spear she will carry it to her father, saying,
“ Namojinga ”=I love him.
When the girl has pulled up the spear, the man has to pay
the “ bespoke ” money — a hoe, an axe, a blanket, a looking-
glass, a matchet, and a few other odds and ends — to the
head of the girl’s family. The girl is then reserved for him
until such time as he can pay the whole, or the larger part of
the marriage money — equal to about £10, which is approxi-
mately the cost of two male and two female slaves. In the
meantime he can give the girl small presents, and she may cook
and send him an occasional dish of food, and often there is
cohabitation before marriage, for the young man regards the
girl, and speaks of her, as his wife.
A free man marrying a free woman will have to give her
father or family two male and two female slaves, and neither
brass rods nor barter goods will be taken in lieu of them ;
but as there are so many debts among them a person will
sometimes (and it is not uncommon) pay this “ marriage
money ” and marry without a single slave actually passing
between them ; i.e. B wants to marry A’s daughter, so he will
go to C and D, who each owe him a slave, and will take them
to A, who accepts them as his debtors ; then B will go to E and
F, who each owe him a female slave, and these debtors of B
will be taken to A, who accepts them as his own debtors ; now
C, D, E, and F have no slaves they want to part with, so they,
in their turn, will look up some debtors and take them to A,
who will again accept these new parties as his own debtors.
This was called bwaka nyungu= to pass on or throw over a
123
DRESSING THE NEW WIFE
debt (or credit as the case may be) from one to another. I
have known more than one case in which the father of the
girl has had the debt worked gradually back to himself, and
in giving his daughter in marriage he has received nothing,
but has paid some of his creditors.
When the time arrives for the marriage the parents take
some plantain, cassava, fish, with various other kinds of food,
and a calabash or jar of sugar-cane wine, and together with
their daughter they go to the house of the bridegroom and
hand over the girl by putting her hand in the man’s hand in
the presence of witnesses. These latter, after drinking the
wine and sharing in the feast, will dance in honour of the
occasion, and the ceremony is completed. The food and wine,
given by the parents, are a proof that the girl is not sold as
a slave, but is given in marriage as a free woman.
During the time the man is collecting the marriage money
he will build a house, if he does not already possess one, and
the girl, under the supervision of her mother, will prepare a
farm. After the ceremony described above is over, the girl
borrows all the finery she can of her female friends, decorates
herself with palm-oil and camw'ood powder, and for two or
three weeks walks about the towui with her husband — a sign
to all that she is now his Avife. If the man has already a few
wives, they will help to “ dress her ” by the loan of their own
trinkets, and will lead her about the town as a proof that
she is now a fellow-wife and belongs to their husband.
Hanging on the wall in my dining-room was a looking-glass
15 inches wide by 18 inches high ; it w'as probably the largest
looking-glass in that part of Africa, and it w'as one of the
“ sights ” of the district. Frequently while sitting in my study
I would hear the shuffling of many feet and much giggling.
On going into the dining-room I would see perhaps eight or
ten women all laughing and nudging one another, and there
in the centre right before the glass would be a well-decorated
woman wriggling about in her vain attempt to see both sides
of herself at once. It was a new wife whom the older wives
124
A LARGE LOOKING-GLASS
had brought to view herself in the white man’s looking-glass.
In the “ trade looking-glass ” she could only see small sections
of herself, but in this large one she had an expansive view of
the whole “ landscape,” and her remarks of wonder and sur-
prise were causing the onlookers to giggle and to excite her
to greater efforts to procure broader views of herself. They
exhibited no jealousy, but regarded her as an acquisition —
the new wife being one more to help keep the husband.
During this period the man buys all the food, but when
the “ honeymoon ” is over the girl takes up her farm-work
and settles down to ordinary life. From that time she brings
home each afternoon some of her farm produce to prepare
for her own and her husband’s evening meal. The husband,
however, must find her the fish for such meals as he partakes
with her, and should he have a quantity of meat he must
be willing to share it with his wives.
For the poor slave woman there are no preliminary gifts,
no “ bespoke ” money, no wedding feast and dance, and no
“ honeymoon.” The sum agreed upon is paid, and the slave
woman is taken to her new owner’s house, or given as a farm
help to his favourite wife. The children of such a marriage
are called semi-slave, indicating that one of the
parents is a slave. If a man cannot afford to pay the marriage
money for a free wife, or even to buy a slave, he can hire
a slave as his wife, and any children born to them belong
to the owner of the slave woman and not to the father and
mother. Or a man will sometimes borrow a wife of another
man for three or six months, and will pay a fixed sum according
to the length of time he has her ; but any children born of
such an arrangement belong to the real husband of the woman.
A man can marry as many women as he can find the marriage
money for, but to eaeh he must give a house, and all his free
wives have equal rights. His slave wives are simply slaves,
and he can sell or kill them just as he pleases. Polygamy
is very general, and monogamy is the result of poverty. Free
men, as a rule, do not marry slaves ; but the slave woman
125
A WOMAN CAN CHOOSE HER HUSBAND
is given in marriage to the slave man, and she thus helps to
make him contented with his lot in the town and tribe ; she
keeps him in food and increases the wealth of her master by
bearing children, who are slaves and the property of her
owner.
Wlien a free woman does not want to marry the man who
is trying to arrange for her, she will tell him frankly that
if he persists in marrying her, she will run away from him.
But if, in spite of this threat, he completes the arrangements,
then a few days after the marriage she will escape to a neigh-
bouring town and put herself under the protection of the
chief by tearing his cloth. The chief then gives the husband
notice of what has happened, and before he can claim his wife
he has to pay the chief 600 brass rods = 39s. as compensation
for his torn cloth. If the husband does not then permit her
to marry the man she wants, she runs away again and again,
and every time she runs it will cost her husband 600 brass
rods. A sensible man will take warning by the first threat,
and will not complete the marriage.
If a free woman is badly treated by her husband, she will
resort to the above method of making him pay for his ill-
treatment of her, and will thus force him to use her more
kindly. There is also a more drastic way of punishing a husband
for outrageous conduct towards his wife. After repeated
complaints of his ill-usage she will run to the witch-doctor
and smash his ehoko, or saucepan of “ medicine,” and in so
doing she will commit a great offence. The witch-doctor will
hold her until the husband redeems her by the gift of a slave,
and the payment of a large sum to replace the ehoko and make
fresh “ medicine.” Having paid the money — for she is worth
more than the total value of the slave and the brass rods —
he will treat his wife better in future, or she will again break
the ehoko. A slave woman who runs away to a chief will be
brought back, and her master will beat, kill her, or sell her right
out of the district, so it is wiser for her to run right beyond
his reach in the first instance. I have known women who
126
THE WITCH-DOCTOR
successfully carried out these various modes of punishing
their abusive, bad-tempered husbands ; and undoubtedly
the fact that the women can and will make their husbands
pay in this way renders life more tolerable for them. Without
some such system the wife’s lot would be terrible and im-
possible.
Breaking the eboko, or “ medicine ” saucepan, answers
another purpose : a man’s wife has been stolen from him,
and all other means having failed to regain her, he goes to
the witch-doctor, tears his cloth and breaks the eboko. This
action calls attention to the case and arouses widespread
interest. The witch-doctor must now take up the case, or
he will lose his dignity as a witch-doctor, and folk will lose
their respect and fear for his eboko. So he places himself
at the head of a movement to punish the wife-stealer, and the
men who would not help the husband volunteer to fight under
the witch-doctor ; and when the woman is captured the husband
has to pay heavy damages for tearing the cloth, breaking the
eboko, and for the help of the witch-doctor in the fight. The
husband will then try to recover all the damages from the
stealer of his wife. It is interesting to note that, both to the
husband and to the wife, there is such a force available
in their utter need. Here and there a man treats his wife
with kindness and consideration, and he sometimes displays
an affection for her that is pleasing to the onlooker and an
encouragement to those who are working for the uplifting
of the race, for it shows of what the men are capable ; but to
the majority of the men the wife is a passing fancy, a brief
passion which is quickly extinguished, and all that remains to
warm their hearts, and keep them faithful to each other,
are the cold, charred embers of a bare toleration for one another.
Above the age of five years it is impossible to find a girl
who is a virgin, and it has been difficult to find a word for
virgin in the Congo languages. The only thing a man can do
is to see that his wife does not commit adultery after he has
married her, without his consent and receiving due compensa-
127
DIVORCE
tion for it. Should she do so, then the adulterer is punished,
but the wonian goes free. If she were punished she would
not confess, and without her confession the husband is not
able to enforce the fine on the lover. A woman’s word is
always taken against the man’s most solemn oath. I have
a very strong suspicion that this power is often abused, (a)
by the woman to pay off a grudge against someone who has
slighted her, and also to be regarded by the other women of
the town as one after whom the men run ; (6) by the husband
as a means of replenishing an empty purse — the fine being
shared by the husband and wife. There are undoubtedly
women who remain faithful to their husbands ; and there are
men who treat their wives with kindness and consideration,
but from what I observed they are very few indeed. Some-
times in anger two men will exchange their wives, especially
if one man’s wife is continually running after the other man.
If a woman does not know, or will not perform, her duties
properly as a wife, i.e. will not farm, cook, etc., the man can
take her back to her family and receive in return the marriage
money he gave for her to her family ; but not the “ bespoke ”
money. Should she die within a few years of her marriage the
husband can claim another woman, or the return of the marriage
money, for his view is that a faulty article has been supplied
to him.
When a free woman wants to leave her husband, or have
a divorce from him, she sends a “ token ” to the man of her
choice, who, if desirous of possessing her, goes to the husband
and tries to arrange the matter. If the husband acts un-
reasonably in his demands — wants too much marriage money,
or desires the whole sum down at once — then she resorts to
the expedient of escaping to a neighbouring chief (as mentioned
above), and the husband is quickly brought to his senses.
Should the “ token ” sent be returned, she knows that the
man does not want her, and if her family are unwilling, or
unable through poverty, to return the marriage money, or
think she is unreasonable in seeking a divorce, she has to
128
NO GREAT DESIRE FOR CHILDREN
remain with her husband. To run away, without just cause,
to another town, is to make her name a byword among her
acquaintances, and the native is very sensitive to public
opinion, as we tried to show in the chapter on Social
Life.
We have not found the same desire for children, on the part
of the women, as we observed on the Lower Congo. This
may be accounted for by the fact that on the Lower Congo
the law of mother-right is in full force, and consequently
all the children belong to the mother and her family ; while
on the Upper Congo father-right is the general custom, and
the children belonging to the father, the mother has no par-
ticular interest in them.
The beliefs of a tribe considerably affect their point of view,
and this is seen in nothing more emphatically than in their
beliefs about child-bearing. On the Lower Congo a non-
child-bearing woman is the butt of the town’s ridicule, she
is sneered at, pointed at by all the other women, and is the
object of their scorn. She feels degraded in the eyes of all,
and however much she may blame her husband, or may
try to prove that she is bewitched, yet her shame is bitterly
felt and resented. She has failed ignominiously in her one
paramount duty to her family. Her sterility is the constant
theme of her husband’s bickerings ; and when everything
else fails to quicken her or stop her nagging tongue, he has
only to hint at this abnormal disability and she is choked
with chagrin and almost ready to commit suicide.
Now on the Upper Congo among the Boloki it appears that
every family has what is called a liboma, it may be a pool
in the bush, or in the forest, or on an island ; it may be a creek,
or it may be a Bombax cotton tree ; but wherever the liboma
may be it is regarded as the preserve of the unborn children
of the family. The disembodied spirits (mingoli) of the de-
ceased members of the family performed the duty of supplying
these preserves with spirit-children to keep their families
strong and numerous. They have very misty ideas as to
129
I
TREATMENT OF TWINS
how these liboma are supplied with the spirit-children (or
bingbongbo), but I have a suspicion that underlying the liboma
is some idea of reincarnation — some thought there was a re-
birth of certain deceased members of the family, and others
thought that the disembodied spirits had spirit-children,
and these were sent to the liboma to be endowed in due time
with bodies.
Now if a man does not have a child by his wife, then she
is simply barren (they always think it is the fault of the woman),
but there are no sneers, and no shame. The woman takes her
sister to her husband, that he may have a child by her. But
if a man has one child by a wife, and no more, he thinks
someone has bewitched his liboma by taking the family’s
stock of children from it and hiding them ; or, it may be that
the other members of the family have bewitched her so that
she may not be able to procure another child from the liboma,
that there might be more for themselves ; if, however, none
of the family have more than one child by their wives, then
some other family, through hatred or jealousy, has taken by
witchcraft the children from their liboma and concealed them,
for only the family to which the liboma belongs can give birth
to the unborn infant spirits there.
Tuvins are not frequent, but when they do arrive they demand
proper treatment and entail more than ordinary care in the
observance of certain duties. Three days after the birth of
twins {masa) the mother takes them in her arms and dances
in front of her house before her neighbours, who join in a
chorus in which they sing over and over again : “ Masa e
maolela ”=the twins cry for you. The mother is decorated
with leaves, sprays, and twigs, the same as for an ordinary
birth. These are made into garlands for her head, stuck into
her waist-belt, and fixed on her wherever it is possible. At this
ceremony the names are given, which are the same for every
pair of twins, and these names are retained through life.
Other folk may change their names according to fancy, but
twins never. The first-born is always known as Nkumu, and
130
SNAKE OMEN
the second as Mpeya, and whenever you hear either of these
names you know at once that the bearer is one of twins.
The first-born of twins is always carried on the right arm,
and the second on the left arm. Whenever the mother replies
to a salutation she must give two answers, one for each child ;
and should she greet anyone she must duplicate her greeting,
that each child may be recognized. She carries the dual
idea further than that, for she must eat, not with one hand,
but with both, that each child may be properly nourished.
Presents are given in duplicate, or the child not receiving
a present will fret, become ill, and die ; and the sickness or
death of either child is supposed to arise from carelessness
in the observance of these rules. The twins are expected to
cry together, rejoice together, and should they lack unanimity
in either of these functions of rejoicing or sorrowing together,
it is because one is sulky on account of one or other of the
above rules having been broken. When one of the twins dies
the mother borrows a baby of the same age, and puts it with
the living twin that it may not fret.
When a man finds a snake (called Mwaladi, a snake with red
marks on it) lying by his side when he awakes, he regards it
as a sign that he will have a child by his wife ; and if a woman
lying or sitting observes the same snake approaching her,
she remains quietly in her position, and if it passes near her
she sprinkles a little camwood powder over it, and regards
it as an omen that she will soon become a mother. The child
born after such an augury is not treated with any special
respect or interest, and no special name is given to it as on the
Lower Congo.
I found that when a woman married she brought her totem
with her, and then not only observed her own totem but
her husband’s also ; and the child born to them took the totems
of both parents until there was a council of both families — the
paternal and maternal branches — and then it was generally
arranged that the child should observe the father’s totem.
One day I was interested in watching the following cere-
131
BOYS AND GIRLS
mony : The women of the village had rubbed themselves well
with camwood powder, they had also decorated their bodies
with leaves, and tied on sashes of a creeper with small leaves
{nkokolemba), and danced for a considerable time to the sound
of drums, then the lobe of the right ear of the ehild was pierced.
It was a boy, for if it had been a girl the left lobe would have
been pierced (the left is always a token of inferiority). This
ceremony took place during the morning, and was a sign to
the boweya spirit that that child belonged to a family in whose
totem the spirit was specially interested. The pierced ear
indicated to the spirit that the owner had a claim on its help
and protection. These rites were only observed when the
family possessed a totem that had a boweya spirit to preside
over its interests and health, and always took place on the
fifth day after the birth of the child.
The father during the pregnancy of his wife is prohibited
certain foods, and he is neither to hunt nor fish during the
pregnancy and confinement of his wife, unless she goes to
a medicine man and is marked with different coloured pig-
ments on the breast, abdomen, shoulders, temple, and fore-
head, and wears two or three charms ; these ensure for her
a good delivery and a healthy child, and also allow her husband
to go hunting and fishing. The food prohibitions vary
considerably, and while the man is observing these taboos
he is said to be in a state of liboi, a noun derived from the verb
bwa=to be confined, to deliver of a child. It is very probably
a remnant of la couvade. They have, however, no tradition
of the man ever having taken the place of the woman by lying
in bed during confinement.
There is no adoption into a family, but there is milk-
brotherhood, and the milk-brother often receives a portion
of the estate ; and there is also milk-sisterhood, and when
a woman is a milk-sister it is permissible, but is regarded as
very irregular, for her milk-brother to marry her.
There are two names given to illegitimate children — mwana
wa ngangi= child of a mistress, i.e. a woman who has been
132
THE MOTHER-IN-LAW
hired from her husband or family for a fixed period at a certain
price ; and mpampoka=a child whose father is not known.
In the former case the child will eventually be owned by the
proper husband or guardian of the woman, unless the lover
made other arrangements, that is, paid a larger fee, at the
time of hiring his mistress ; in the latter case the child will
belong to the woman, and hence to her family, and in both
cases the child will remain with its mother until it is ten or
twelve years of age.
Abortion is produced by the drinking of a decoction made
by boiling kungubololo leaves, which is said to be very bitter,
like quinine. Abortion is practised to avoid the trouble
incurred by having children, or from hatred towards the hus-
band, whom the woman may desire to divorce ; for if she has
any children by him, her relationship to her husband is so
complicated thereby that she cannot easily leave him for
another man.
When a man divorces a wife who has a child of tender
years, the child is allowed to remain with her until he or she
is about ten or twelve years of age, and then is given up to
the father, but is permitted to visit the mother should she be
living in a neighbouring town or district. The father has the
right to kill his own child, and although the act may be strongly
condemned by his neighbours and his family, yet they have
no power to punish him, though it may be a clear case of murder.
I may say that I never heard of a father killing his child while
I lived amongst them ; but the natives assured me that there
had been such cases. A father, however, would not hesitate
to pawn his children, or even to sell them into slavery, if he
were in dire straits. As a rule they are fairly kind to their
children, even to over-indulgence, for it is rarely that they
punish them.
Perhaps this will be the best place in which to make a few
remarks on the mother-in-law. She and her son-in-law may
never look on each other’s face. I have often heard a man
say, “ So-and-so, your mother-in-law is coming,” and the
133
POLYGAMY AND ITS RESULTS
person addressed would run into my house and hide himself
until his wife’s mother had gone by. They can sit at a little
distance from each other, with their backs to one another,
and talk over affairs when necessary. Bokilo means mother-
in-law, daughter-in-law, brother-in-law, father-in-law, sister
of mother-in-law, brother of father-in-law, wife of wife’s
brother, and in fact any relation-in-law. Bokilo, the noun, is
derived from kila= to forbid, prohibit, taboo, and indicates
that all bearing the relationship of bokilo can have no inti-
mate relationship with one another, for it is regarded as in-
cestuous ; and it is according to native ideas just as wrong for
a daughter-in-law to speak or look at her husband’s father, as
for the son-in-law to speak or look at his wife’s mother. Some
have told me that this was to guard against all possibility of
cohabitation, “ For a person you never look at you never
desire.” Others have said, “ Well, don’t you see, my wife
came from her womb.” I am strongly inelined to the opinion
that the former is the real reason.
I knew a ease in which a man married his mother-in-law
by marriage. The woman was not his wife’s mother, but his
wife’s father’s wife, and as sueh was his mother-in-law. I
had seen him avoid her many times, and it w'as thus evident
that all the wives of the wife’s father are regarded as joint-
mothers of the children, and hence mothers-in-law. His wife’s
father died, and the man wanted to have one of the waives
(i.e. one of his mothers-in-law) as his own wife, so he arranged
with a friend to pay the marriage money and take her as his
wife, then she, by that marriage, being no longer his mother-
in-law, he was able to take her as his own wife. He there-
upon paid the money for her and took her to his house.
1 cannot close this chapter on marriage and child-birth
without putting on record my observations regarding poly-
gamy and its effects on the Congo. Polygamy means monopoly
in women, and causes great immorality among the natives
practising it ; and it is now fast dying out within the sphere
of our influence upon the Lower Congo, and in the neighbour-
134
POLYGAMY AND ITS RESULTS
hood of our stations upon the Upper. The effect of polygamy
was to tie up the women to a comparatively small number
of men who were fortunate (?) enough to inherit them, or
had procured the wealth with which to pay their marriage
money. There was a constant complaint amongst the young
and vigorous men of the middle and lower orders that it was
almost impossible for them to procure wives. Thus we found
a small number of men possessing nearly all the women in
a town, having from four or five up to twenty-five and thirty
each, and a large number of young men who could not secure
wives. Moreover, these wealthy men, besides having all
these wives, had bespoken most of the young girls, many almost
infants ; for it was no uncommon thing for girls of three or
four years to be betrothed to men of forty and fifty years of
age ; and as soon as they reached puberty the marriage money
was completed, and they were passed over to their already
very much married husbands.
Now my observations of polygamy, both on the Lower
and Upper Congo, have led me to form a decided opinion that
it does not conduce to productivity, but the contrary. Under
this system I have never known a large family. One man
had eight wives, and he had five children by one and none by
the others ; another had ten wives and no children ; another
had twenty-three wives and only one child ; another twenty-five
wives and three children only ; another who had eight wives
had three children. Mapwata, chief of Ntenta in French Congo,
had forty wives, but only five children. In Mfumu Ngoma’s
village there were 87 men, 67 married women, and only 37
children. In the village of Mbela there were about 60 married
women, as shown by the number of houses, and only 28 children,
and so on ad lib.
If you ask a native chief, husband of many wives, how many
children he has, he will state an absurd number, not because
he desires to deceive you, but for the following reasons : All
the children, of his brothers and sisters, and all their children’s
children, are spoken of as the chief’s children, as he is the head
135
POLYGAMY AND ITS RESULTS
of the family, i.e. all the nephews and nieces, the grand-
nephews and grand-nieces are regarded as a man’s own off-
spring, besides his own children and grandchildren ; many of
us could make up large families in this way. And again, the
native has a very strong superstition and prejudice against
counting his children, for he believes that if he does so, or if
he states the proper number, the evil spirits will hear it and
some of his children will die ; henee when you ask him such
a simple question as, “ How many children have you ? ” you
stir up his superstitious fears, and he will answer : “ I don’t
know,” If you press him, he will tell you sixty, or one hundred
children, or any other number that jumps to his tongue ;
and even then he is thinking of those who, from the native
view of kinship, are regarded as his children, and desiring to
deceive, not you, but those ubiquitous and prowling evil
spirits, he states a large number that leaves a wide margin,
I have been introdueed by young men to men, much older
than themselves, as “ my children,” and there was a twinkle
in their eyes, showing that they appreciated the humorous
absurdity of the situation.
Among the Congo languages there is no proper word for
virgin, for there was not in the old days a pure girl above the
age of five. I would, therefore, most emphatically dissent
from the oft-repeated fallacious statement that polygamy pro-
motes morality among native tribes ; that it has eaused wide-
spread immorality on the Congo is truer to the faets.
After carefully reviewing all the data I am forced to the
conclusion that polygamy is not necessitated by the climate,
but is the natural outcome of their customs, mode of thought,
and view of life. A Congo man will fight, trade, carry heavy
loads for long distances, and work, but he will not hoe the
ground, that is infra dig. to him. He will dig the white man’s
farm, but he will not work land in his own village, so, to use
his own words, he “ hires ” or “ borrows ” a woman to do this
for him, and the more women he has the less likely is he to
go hungry. Again, the more women he has the more important
136
POLYGAMY AND ITS RESULTS
he is, the greater his influence and social standing ; when a
native wants to impress you with the greatness of his chief
or the importance of the head of his family, he tells you the
number of his wives, and he does not mind adding a dozen to
the sum total.
Again, chiefs in receiving visits from other chiefs and their
retinues had to give free hospitality for long periods. This
required a large amount of food and several women to prepare
it daily. Then again, for generations the women have believed
that if they allowed their husbands to have intercourse with
them between the time of pregnancy and the weaning of their
children, those children would die. This superstitious belief
has been a potent factor in keeping polygamy alive, if it did
not originate it. Remember how they procure their wives,
and that the woman’s family must replace her in the event
of death, consequently the family has been careful to see that
she has not been weakened by frequent child-bearing, lest
they should have to give another woman in her place. Among
some tribes the man had to wait until his wife’s family took
him a calabash of palm-wine, and renewed their permission
to him.
Some writers think, judging by the tone of their articles,
that we missionaries rush pell-mell into a country, and delight
in upsetting the institutions and customs of a place whether
they are good, bad, or indifferent. This, however, is not true
to the facts as I know them.
Our Mission on the Congo commenced its operations in
1878, and it was well on in the eighties before churches were
formed, with rules and regulations for the guidance of converts.
In the meantime a language had been reduced to writing,
much translation work had been done, and a mass of informa-
tion collected about the habits, customs, and view of life taken
by the native. “ Many men, many minds ” is an old saying,
and we found it a true one when the time came to deal with
native marriage customs and polygamy in relation to church
membership. There was not a single aspect of this great
1.37
MONOGAMY AND ITS RESULTS
question but had its exponents ; and it was not until after
mature consideration, and a careful study of all the pros and
cons, that we came to the conclusion that monogamy was the
only wise rule to adopt, and we therefore laid it down as a
condition of church membership that one man should have
one wife only.
It is also a rule of the church that no Christian shall receive
marriage money for his daughter, niece, or ward ; and no
Christian is permitted to give marriage money for his wife,
except to a heathen if he asks for it. The reasons for this
exception are obvious. We also insist that all Christians shall
marry either by civil law or “ holy matrimony.” We are
interested in the natives and, rightly or wrongly, we devote
our lives to them ; and if we had desired numbers on the church
roll to quote in reports rather than the moral and physical well-
being of our parishioners, we should have made these restrictions
less rigorous, and entrance to church membership more easy
and pleasant for them. Our Society gives us a free hand in
dealing with these great problems.
Now we find that Christian teaching and monogamy have
conduced to stricter morality among the people, and also
to an increase in the birth-rate. In the old days there was in
every village on the Lower Congo a house called Mbongi, or
Nzo-a-matoko (house for young men), where the lads and un-
married men slept. Girls from an early age had free ingress to
these houses, and their mothers encouraged them to go. These
houses have been cleared out of all the villages where there is
any Christian influence at work, and even from heathen
villages also, for they have been greatly influenced by the
purer public opinion of recent years. Now that monogamy
is practised by so many, the young men know that in due time
they will be able to secure a wife, and they desire to receive
her as pure as possible, hence the closing of these village
bachelor houses even in the heathen towns. Christian parents
also use their best endeavour to preserve their daughters in
innocency.
138
PURER WOMEN
We have within a stone’s-throw of Wathen Station a Chris-
tian village where monogamy is the rule without exception.
There are twenty-four married women living there with their
husbands, and they have between them fifty-seven children
now living (noted in 1908), and five have died, making in all
sixty-two births. Some of these have only been married
eighteen months or two years, and there is no doubt that as
the years go by there will be many more children born to
these twenty-four wives. Now the same number of women
tied to one man would not have had a tenth of the children.
Again, we have throughout our districts a large number of
teachers, many of whom are married, and most of them have
children — one, two, or three, according to the length of time
they have been married. There is another noticeable thing,
that in the Christian villages, i.e. the monogamous villages,
there are plenty of children, while the same cannot be said
of the heathen in polygamous villages. Some seem to think
that polygamy spells large families and a fair state of morality ;
but on the Congo, and I speak of what I know, polygamy means
a very low birth-rate and an absolute lack of morality and
common decency. Polygamy is giving place to monogamy,
and that means a higher morality, a purer and more self-
respecting womanhood, and the introduction of a truer affection
between the husband and the wife which will result in a better
and more healthy home-life for the children, and will lead to
the coming of a brighter day on dark, oppressed Africa.
139
CHAPTER IX
NATIVE EDUCATION
Precociousness of the children — Teaching the tribal mark — Knowledge of
astronomy — Divisions of night and day — Education — Paddling and
canoeing— Swimming — Fishing — Hunting — Blacksmithing — The girls
learned farming — Cooking — Hair-dressing — Mat and saucepan making —
Charms — Taboos — First-fruits — First teeth — No moral training — Great
liars and thieves — Capable of truth and honesty.
HERE were no schools to attend until the white men
went to live in their district ; but the lads accom-
panied their fathers and elders and learned by imita-
tion, by listening to the talk on the road, in the canoe and
around the camp fire, and by special instruction. Most lads
of 14 or 15 knew the names of the innumerable fish in their
river and creeks, their habits, and the best mode of catching
them. They also knew the names and habitat of most bush
animals, either by experience or repute ; the names of the
birds, insects, trees, plants, etc., were all well known to them
and easily distinguished. The village life was so open, so
lacking in privacy, that almost every function of the body
was performed without any attempts at secrecy, hence ob-
servant young eyes drank in all that came within the purview
of their vision, and boys and girls of a tender age were pre-
cocious in their knowledge of those matters which are left to a
much later period in civilized countries.
Tattooing was begun in earliest childhood by the parents,
but not more than sufficient to show that the child belonged to
the tribe. Later on the boys and girls were urged to cut their
own tattoos, and were taught to bear the pain unwhimper-
140
KNOWLEDGE OF ASTRONOMY
ingly. I have seen boys and girls sitting by the river’s edge
summoning up the necessary courage to make the incisions,
and when they failed to do so they were ridiculed by the others
until at last they would run the knife, by the aid of a bit of
looking-glass or the reflection in the river, along the old lines
in the forehead. At the age of 18 or 20 the person — man or
woman — who wished to be thought fashionable would work
away every week or so, cutting the flesh deeper and putting
wads in the cuts to cause the flesh to stand up, until they had
a veritable likwala, or cock’s comb, w'hich would be the envy
of those who had not attained to such a fine decoration.
There was another pain they were taught to bear patiently,
and that was the chiselling of the upper incisors to V-shaped
points. Some only had two cut, while others had all the upper
incisors done. This operation was supposed to improve their
appearance. I said once to a native, “ Your teeth are like a
dog’s,” and his quick retort was, “ Well, your teeth are like a
bat’s,” I suppose he preferred being like a dog, to having
teeth like a bat. They paid two brass rods for cutting the
teeth, and two brass rods every time they bit the operator.
The eyelashes also were pulled out as an aid to beauty.
They picked up a little astronomy from their elders, Venus
was called “ wife of the moon ” ; a shooting star was “ fetish
fire ” ; a cluster of stars (Pleiades) was a “ crowd of young
women”; the “Milky Way” was ‘‘the road of floods and
drought.” Both on the Lower and Upper River the natives
connect the “ Milky Way ” with the abundance and scarcity
of rains ; they say that when the “ Milky Way ” is bright,
clear, and well seen there will be plenty of rain. Three bright
stars in Orion’s belt were named the “ three paddlers ” ; and
the five stars near each other in Orion were regarded as the
“ bundle of thunder or lightning.” In the constellation Lepus
there is a set of five stars thus » **, and these w'ere said to re-
semble a man — the top star being the head, the two lower
stars the hands, and the two bottom stars the feet. When
this set of stars, called hole, reached the meridian the natives
141
DIVISIONS OF NIGHT AND DAY
did more planting than at any other season. This hole was
so well recognized by the natives that we used the word as an
equivalent for our word year.
There is a legend that the moon was once a python and
made a road for itself on the earth. Some adventurous trappers,
however, snared it, but on noticing there was no more moon-
light they let it go, whereupon it sprang into the sky and never
again returned to earth. When there is no moon, some say
that the python has gone on a long journey, and others that it
dies every month. There is much shouting and gesticulating
on the appearance of a new moon ; and those who have
enjoyed good health ask that it may be continued, and those
who have been sick ascribe their complaint to the coming of
the new moon, and ask it to take away bad health and give
them good health in its place.
Here, as on the Lower Congo, many believe that the sun
returns from the west to the east during the night to be ready
to rise in the morning. They were taught that the stars were
a species of large fire-flies that formerly existed on the earth,
but have now gone into space, and that the comets are signs
that a great chief has recently died.
.\nother thing necessary to the young Congo boy was to
teach him, not the movements of the clock’s hands, but the
crowing of the cocks, the notes of the nkuku-mpembe (name of
a bird), and the movements of the sun : 2 a.m. was “ the
lying fowl ” ; 3 a.m. “ the lying bird ” — because they falsely
heralded the dawn w^hich was not due until later ; 4 a.m.
was “ the first fowl ” ; 4 to 5 a.m. “ the sun is near ” ; 5.30
to 6 a.m. “ the dawning ” ; 6 a.m. “ the sun is come ” ; 6.15
to 7 a.m. “ the first sun ” ; 12 noon “ the meridian ” ; 6 p.m.
“ when the fowls go in,” or “ the sun enters ” ; 11 to 12 p.m.
“ one set of ribs,” or “ one side of a person,” and means that
about that time a person turns from lying on one side over on
to the other. For all these and many other divisions of the day
there were special names or phrases. Then there was a system
of counting, and an elaborate mode of stating numbers with
142
EDUCATION
the fingers^ which I must enter into more fully under another
heading ; suffice it to say that he had to learn to count from
one up to ten thousand, and any amount beyond that up to
one hundred thousand he had no difficulty in expressing after
he had once mastered the system.
The length of time that a ehild remained under the tutelage
of his father depended largely on the character of both, and
the strength of will each possessed. There were no bachelor
houses in the villages, consequently male and female children
belonging to the same mother were brought up together in
her house until such times as the boys were old enough to
build a house for themselves, if they cared so to do. There
was no age limit. I have known big lads sleep in their mothers’
houses ; and I have know smallish lads of energy and initiative
combine to build a hut for themselves of which they were
very proud.
From his very boyhood the Boloki was a keen trader. He
accompanied his father on all trading journeys as soon as he
was able to beat time with a stick in the bows of the canoe, or
handle a paddle. In the village he learned the value of different
articles, and nothing delighted him more than exchanging
what he did not want for something that he needed. While
his father was bartering he would eagerly listen, and thus
learn how to praise his own goods, and disparage in depreciatory
terms the articles which he desired to purchase, so as to lower
their prices. Before an article could be exchanged with profit
to himself he had many things to learn — the first cost of the
article, the time spent in hawking it, the payment and keep
of those who helped to paddle him from place to place in
search of a buyer — or he would find himself poorer at the end
of his trading expedition than he was at the beginning. This
was no small part of the lad’s education.
The boy, as a part of his training, had to learn to handle his
paddle with agility, gracefulness, and accuracy. There were
clumsy paddlers who were the butt of their companions’
* See Appendix, Note 3, on Boloki method of counting.
143
SWIMMING
ridicule, but there were others who so swung their paddles as
to excite the admiration of the onlookers. As a child his father
gave him a toy paddle and taught him how to back-water,
to steer, and to move his paddle in unison with others. Nor
was this all, for there w'ere over fifty words and phrases he
had to learn dealing with canoeing. There were the W'ords for
canoes of different sizes and shapes, from the large canoe
that would take fifty paddles and a heavy cargo to the shallow
marsh canoe that would skim over the surface of a six-inch
pool. There were the names for the various parts of the canoe
— stern, bows, middle, sides, etc. ; for beaching, launching,
steering, turning sharp round corners, or guiding the canoe to
a landing-place. There were names for a patch on a canoe,
for the usable part of a broken canoe, for the haft and blade
of his paddle, and for their various sizes. These and many
other things about canoes he had to know before his education
was completed.
The Boloki boys, living near the river as they did, learned
to be good swimmers. They started swimming at so early an
age that they regarded it as a natural action as much as walk-
ing. Canoes were often upset in the storms or turned over by
a hippopotamus, therefore it was necessary for a lad to know
how to save himself. The hand-over-hand stroke was most
common, and they kicked out with the legs. They trod the water
very well ; but they always dived feet first, never head first.
When a canoe was upset they were very dexterous in turning
it over, bailing it out, putting their possessions (such as were
floating) back into the canoe, catching their paddles, and then
climbing into their frail canoe again without upsetting it. This
I have seen them do repeatedly, and often sent out a canoe to
help them, but before it arrived they would be sitting in their
canoe smiling. The girls learned both to swim and paddle ;
but the same skill in either accomplishment was not expected
of them as of the boys.
The boys went with their fathers on fishing and hunting
expeditions. They were taught how to make the various fish-
144
HUNTING
traps and nets, and the best places to put them in the river,
creeks, or pools, and also how to bait and cast the hook.
There were curious kinds of traps to make that would allow
the fish to enter, but rigidly bar their exit ; long fish-fences
for closing up the mouths of creeks, or run for forty yards by
the river bank ; nets to be woven, which when cast with the
right sort of twist would entangle the unwary fish. They had
to learn to watch the river for the best time for setting the
traps and fixing the fences. They had to remember to address
their father and the other fishermen as Mwele,^ for if the water-
spirits heard their proper names they would turn aside the
fish from the nets, and they would have ill-luck in their
expedition. There were the names of a score of traps, nets,
and modes of fishing to keep in mind.
In hunting there was much knowledge to be gained, for not
only were the habits of the different animals to be thoroughly
understood, but also the proper charms to be used, and the
necessary ceremonies to be observed to counteract the adverse
influences of the bush-spirits who were always on the prowl
to render their hunting futile. For hippopotami, elephants,
and antelopes, spring-traps were made and placed in the proper
tracks. Occasionally holes were dug and sharpened sticks
and iron prongs were fixed upright in them, and then the holes
were covered very lightly Avith sticks, leaves, etc. (I often
shudder, even now after many years, at the narrow escape I
once had while hunting from falling into one of these traps.)
For hunting crocodiles and bush-pigs spears were most com-
monly used, and the lads learned to throw them with force and
accuracy. I have seen lads stand at a distance of from 60
to 80 feet and put spear after spear, with great precision, into
an upright plantain stalk not more than 5 inches in diameter.
If the lad had a blacksmith or a witch-doctor as a relative,
then these professions were opened to him. The former com-
manded respect because of his skill and usefulness ; but the
* This name is given to all fishermen while fishing, and just as they leave
the river with their catch, or bad luck will follow.
145
K
COOKING
profession of the latter was not only very lucrative, but gained
the respectful fear of the people, for did he not control those
evil spirits that were always troubling the folk? And again,
a witch-doctor was never charged with witchcraft, hence the
lad would know in learning the tricks of that trade he would
never have to undergo the ordeal, and might, if he were cunning
enough, live on the best of the land.
The girl in the course of her education went as a child with
her mother to the farm, and with her small hoe helped her
mother to weed, and as she grew older she would hoe and
plant. There were the various kinds of cassava to learn, and
their characteristics and appearances ; the best time of the
year for planting according to the position of the kole in the
sky, and the best sort of soil, and when it was unprofitable to
plant an old farm, and better to start a new one.
The girl had also to learn the sundry ways of cooking cassava
— for there were several — all entailing much time and thought.
The modes of boiling, steaming, grilling, smoking, or baking
fish and meats. She had to become expert in making up tasty
messes with leaves and palm-oil, caterpillars, palm maggots,
etc. She should know how to shave the head, comb out and
plait hair, massage the skin, and decorate the face and body
with various pigments and camwood powder, for these would
be expected of her by her future husband. She had to learn
to make her own dresses from palm-frond fibre, and if she
desired to be “ chic,” then she must dye them to the fashionable
colour. If she wanted extra pocket-money, then she might
master the mysteries of papyrus mat, and saucepan making,
or even turn her hand to the art of basket-making. The more
she knew of these various accomplishments the better chance
she had of securing the man she wanted for a husband.
What a mass of information the girl collected about fetishes,
charms, and medicine men ! The proper charms to protect
her farm produce, to ward off the evil eye from casting bad
luck on her farming ; the right charms to keep her in good
health, and render her attractive to the village lads. She had
146
NO MORAL TRAINING
to store her mind with a knowledge of the best charms to use
to allure her lover to her side, to preserve her during pregnancy,
to ward off sickness from her child, to retain her position as
the favourite wife, and to keep away those many evil spirits
that seemed to hem her in on every side. Both boys and girls
had to remember the family totems, and the family and personal
taboos ; what they should do and eat, and what it was neces-
sary for them to avoid doing and eating. Then there were the
first-fruits of the fish they caught, the animals they killed, the
foods they planted, and the various articles they made which
had to be given to their parents or nearest relatives, otherwise
bad luck would follow them. The first teeth that came out
had to be carefully hidden, for if they were found by anyone
no other teeth would come in their place.
Although there was much physical training to make them
efficient in hunting, fishing, farming, etc,, and much mental
training to gain a full knowledge of all that boys and girls
should know, yet there was no moral training. From early age
to puberty boys and girls had free access to each other. Public
reprobation was only visited upon those who committed a
wrong so clumsily as to be found out. I have heard them
speak admiringly of one who, while working for a white man,
robbed him so cleverly as not to be discovered, and such a
one would bring back to his town the proceeds of his robbery
and boastfully describe how he committed it ; on the other
hand, I have heard them call the unsuccessful thief a “ fool,”
not bad nor wicked, but eZema=stupid, fool, etc. We could
not discover any words for virtuous or vicious ; a person
either had “ good ways ” or “ bad ways,” but these referred
more to the presence or absence of rudeness, disrespect to
superiors, or greediness, than to any moral or immoral qualities.
For lying and stealing a child was not punished unless the
lie or the theft inconvenienced the parent in some way. As
a result of the lack of any moral training while young we
found both men and women most unblushing liars and thieves.
I have seen the tail of a fish sticking out of a man’s cloth, and
147
CAPABLE OF TRUTH AND HONESTY
he asseverating with many oaths that he had neither touched
nor seen the fish, until the fisherman who had been robbed
pointed to the fish-tail sticking out well in view beyond the
thief’s cloth ; and when convicted he laughingly said, “ I
don’t know how the fish got there.” Yet they were capable
of telling the truth and being honest, as I discovered later.
148
CHAPTER X
NATIVE GAMES AND PASTIMES
Dolls — Make-believe games — Mimic war — Model of steamers— Game of
hand-thrusting— Hockey — Wheel game— Flipping arrows — Lip-sucking
game— Ball game — “ Tip-it ” — Game with palm nuts — African back-
gammon—Gambling game— Teetotums — Hoop game — Cat’s cradle —
Water games— Spear-throwing — Bull-roarers— Imitating movements of
animals.
There are not many games, but such as there are
train the eye in quickness, the hand in precision, and
the body in agility.
Some little girls take pieces of stick or cassava roots to
represent dolls, or, as they call them, 6a?ia= babies, and
tying them on their backs with an old rag they play with them
as such. An English doll is too uncanny, too much like a
human, for them to play with ; they do not understand it,
and put it away, or their elders take it away and sell it as a
powerful fetish. Parents fond of their children make small
paddles, baskets, and hoes in imitation of their own, and the
youngsters play with them when they accompany their mothers
to the farms, or their fathers in the canoes. Toy hoes and
baskets are given to girls only, toy fish-traps to boys ; but
toy paddles to both boys and girls.
The boys of the village plait basket-work shields about
3 feet long and 8 inches wide, and with stout water-grass and
young plantain stalks as spears and clubs, and imitation
wooden knives in their belts, they take sides in a great sham
fight, and amid much laughter and good-humour a mimic
battle is waged until one side is driven from the field — the
149
MIMIC WAR
village street. Such “ fights ” are interesting to watch, for the
movements of the more than half-naked bodies are swift,
precise, and graceful, and undoubtedly help to keep them in
good form ; and the accuracy with which they hurl their
imitation spears is a fine display of dexterity.
Besides mimic war, the youngsters have their make-believe
games of marketing, cooking, feasting, and housekeeping.
The more expert among the lads make toy steamers in imita-
tion of those running on the river ; and it is interesting to see
two lads approaching from opposite directions pulling their
“ steamers ” behind them. As they pass each other they
whistle three times as a salute to one another, then comes a
long whistle as a sign to stop, and the “ steamers ” are supposed
to stop at a beach, and the two boys, who are acting as captains
and wearing any old hat they can find for the occasion, approach
each other, raise their hats, bow, shake hands, and then jabber
for a few moments in bits of French and any of their own
syllables that sound to them like French ; then come the
ceremonies of parting, and the whistling of a pretended farewell
from the “ steamers,” and the slm ! shu ! shu ! of the working
engines. The lad pulling the steamer is engine, whistle, pilot,
steersman, and captain all combined, and seems to enjoy it.
The best model has the largest crowd of followers after it.
These boys are splendid actors, and the whole scene just
enacted is a fine, humorous imitation of the actions of State
steamers and captains meeting on our beach. A hat is as neces-
sary almost as the “ steamer,” for it has to be taken off when
the bow is made, and if a boy does not possess a hat, or cannot
borrow one, he will make a good imitation of a helmet or a
straw hat out of papyrus pith and plantain leaves.
The following is a list of the games ^ played among the Boloki
boys and girls :
1. Ndangu, hand-matching game. (Lower Congo ta mbele
is slightly different.) The players form two lines {mabenge)
* For Lower Congo games I would refer the reader to Folk Lore, Vol. XX,
1909, p. 457, where the writer has given a full description of them.
160
Photo *r] c. y. Dodds
Native Carpenier and his Workshop
This young man is only one of several expert carpenters trained on our Monsembe stations.
Photo by\ c Dodds
Model ok a State Steamer
The lads holding the model made it out of bamboo, papyrus pith, and the po:ato*like substance
of the p’antain root. The lads delight to pull these toy steamers through the villages, and imitate
the \\hite captains, with their make-believe salutes, etc.
GAME OF HAND-THRUSTING
facing each other. The first player A faces the first of the
opposition line B ; A throws up both hands and brings them
down with a clap (esaku), and then darts out one hand. B does
the same — elaps his answers (tambola), and if B’s hand meets
A’s hand, A is wounded {ajwe mpota), and if A receives three
wounds {mpota iaiu) he dies (awe). That is to say that if B
is quick enough, or lucky enough, to throw out a hand to
meet A’s thrust, then instead of being wounded he wounds A,
and three wounds eount a death — A goes to the bottom of his
own line. If, however, the hands do not meet, then B is wounded
and A passes on to the next, and the next, until he wounds all
in B’s line or is himself killed ; if he is killed, then the next boy
to A tries until he is either “ killed ” or has been down B’s line.
Those who are “ dead ” stand at the bottom of their line.
After all the “ men ” in A’s line have played, B’s line starts,
and should he lose any “ men ” they are redeemed in the
following way ; A’s line lost, say, five, and B’s line lost, say,
four, A counts four of his five as redeemed, and B counts his
four as redeemed, thus over the first bout B has lost none, and
A has lost one “ man.” The game proceeds until all on one
side are killed. The sharpest players stand at the top of the line,
and are much admired for their prowess.
2. Ta mbali, or hockey (Lower Congo ta mbadi), is probably
a recent introduetion by steamer lads from the Lower Congo,
as the Monsembe boys had no open spaces for such a game
until they played on the cleared opening in front of our station.
I found hockey played most vigorously at San Salvador du
Congo when I arrived there in the early part of 1882.
3. Nkeka, or wheel. The potato-like substance of the plantain
root is cut into a wheel, and the players arm themselves with
long, sharpened splinters {mbenge) of bamboos ; they divide
themselves into two parties, which place themselves at about
30 or 40 yards from each other. Party A throws the wheel
{kula nkeka) along the ground towards party B at the other
end {nsuku), and as the wheel rolls towards them the boys of
B throw their splinters at it, and if all miss, side A chants :
151
BALL GAME
“ Thud, thud, thud, bad marksmen, die like a gazelle” {Ju, ju,
ju, bamai bahi, bawa na npambi) ; if some miss and some hit,
those who hit sing : “We have hit the wheel right through the
rim ” — the most fatal part (Yeke, yeke, nakeke na ndende na
mimpesa) ; if two hit they say, “ Brothers truly ” {Jimi be) ;
if they all hit they sing, “ It is absolutely lost and done for,”
i.e. It is no good looking for slaves from this side {Mampasa
malambasana). To win : Should B party hit the wheel with
three splinters, then three of A party beeome slaves, i.e. they
stand out of the game until they are redeemed ; but if on the
return of the wheel to A party that party hits it with four
splinters, they thereby redeem their three slaves and place
one of the other side in slavery. This continues until one side
is in total slavery. The game excites great enthusiasm, and
encourages precision in throwing.
4. Ngenza. A game in which small bamboo arrows are
flipped at the fleshy mid-rib of the plantain leaf. Sides are
taken, and the side with the best marksmen wins.
5. Epapunga. They make a sucking noise with the lower
lip inside the upper, and the one not able to do it in unison
with the others {lembwaka lokela) is “ killed,” i.e. drops out
until all are killed except the last, who becomes the winner.
6. Ntamba. A kind of ball game. A ball {lingendu) of leaves
is made and thrown up, and is kc2ot in the air by beating it with
the palms of the hands.
7. Nkulu-nkulu. Two lines of boys sit on the ground
opposite each other ; the first lad of each line is called moloi
(husband), the rest are called bali (wives). Each Avife on the
playing side interlaces her fingers, thus forming a hollow
with the palms of her hands. The “ husband ” takes a small
article and, passing his hand rapidly uj3 and down the line
of hands, he drops the article into one of the arched hands.
The opposition has now to discover who has the article, and
the following conversation takes place.
Opposition says :
“ Baninga-baninga ” (You ^flayers).
162
AFRICAN BACKGAMMON
Players : “ Eh ! ”
0pp.: “ Bankutu bengi ” (name of some leaves).
Pis.:
0pp.: “ Ba nyango ya bilulu ” (They are bitter leaves).
Pis.: Eh!^^
0pp.: “ Obe na nkulu, abeie mungita” (He who has the artiele
make the sound of thunder).
Pis.: “ Kiliri ! ” (imitation of rolling thunder).
0pp.: “ Bakunguika " (Make it again).
Pis.: “ Kilili ! ”
0pp.: Motu yona ” (That person).
If the person thus pointed out is the hider of the article,
he shows it, and his side loses, and the opposition side takes
its turn ; if, however, he has not the article, then the one who
has it says, “ Eh ! nabuti mwana ” (Oh ! I have given birth to
a child), and shows the article. It then counts one game to
them, and is called mwana wawi=one child.
8. Liba. A game with palm nuts (and this very often
precedes peke, or backgammon). In liba they throw up a palm
nut, and then before it falls they swoop up with the right
hand as many palm nuts as they can, and put them down to
catch the descending nut before it touches the ground. The
one who picks up most in an agreed number of throws wins the
game.
9. Peke (kind of mancala, or African backgammon). A
number of holes are made in a circle on the ground, and the
players either take as many palm nuts as they can in so many
handfuls, or procure them as in liba (see game 8) ; then they
put one nut into each hole, and the one whose nuts pass the
holes of the other’s, wins ; if his nuts fall short of the other’s,
he loses. The game is very complicated, and its rules little
understood by any European.
10. Lobesi, or the game of pitch-and-toss with six counters.
The counters are called mbesi ; the light side of the counter
is nke, the dark side is mpili. The stakes {libeta) are taken
up when the counters in three throws either fall dark side
153
HOOP GAME
up {mpili), or light side up {nke), or three of eaeh {miu matu=
three eyes). The person putting down the stakes is rnobeti wa
libeta, the plaee of playing is ekali, and the turn to play is
ngala, and pula is to demand a seeond set of throws with the
mbesi. In this game there is always a large amount of gambling
for brass rods and anything else of value, in fact, slaves are
sometimes staked on the throw. I never knew it to be played
except for gambling purposes.
11. Nsoko. In this game it is necessary to make a table
(juku) of four lengths of plantain stalks, two 3 feet long,
and two 2 feet long, and these are so placed as to make an
oblong, and the space is filled with earth or sand in a concave
shape, and on this concave bed some pieces of plantain leaves
are smoothly spread. The teetotums are made from the large
Calabar {nsoko, hence the name of the game) beans. A hole
is bored through the middle of each bean, and through the
hole is pushed a splinter of wood to form a peg £ in. long
on the under side, and about 3| inches on the upper. This is
called the mundindi. The juku and the nsoko being prepared,
the players, as many as can sit at the table, take their places,
and one having taken the mundindi between the extended
palms of his hands, he rubs it to and fro to give it momentum,
and then he drops the teetotum on the table, where it spins
rapidly. In the meantime another has done the same, and
on the two revolving tops colliding, one is knocked out and
becomes the property of the one whose teetotum is left on
the “ board.” If both are knocked out they begin again.
If one teetotum holds the “ board ” for a round, the owner
of it is monzo (the best spinner). He who procures the most
tops belonging to the others is the winner.
12. Molangu (hoop). The lads take sides, each side having
a town {mboka) about 30 yards apart ; and each lad has a
piece of string from 6 to 8 feet long weighted at the ends.
All being ready the hoop is rolled along from town A towards
town B, and as it approaches a lad steps out and throws one
end of his string at the hoop, and lets the string run freely
154
CAT’S CRADLE
from his hand. His object is to entangle his string about the
hoop. When the hoop stops and falls, he goes and picks up
one end of his string and swings the hoop round his head as
he takes it back to the throwing side A. If he succeeds he
has repulsed the enemy, and it counts as one game to his side.
If he misses the hoop, then the enemy has entered his town,
and it is reckoned as one game to the town A, and the town B
has to roll the hoop towards their opponents. If the hoop
happens to come off the string while being twirled, then the
side of the twirler loses, and he has to take the hoop back
to his own town and throw it to the town of the enemy. Each
lad steps out in turn for a throw of the hoop, and for a throw
at the hoop.
13. Nka, or cat’s cradle, is well known to the lads and
lasses, and many an hour is spent in working out the different
designs on their fingers and toes. The following are the names
of a few patterns : (1) Moleki na nkusu, snare for a parrot,
because of its similarity to a snare ; (2) Mwana muntaka,
girl, because of its large, oval shape ; (3) Mwana lele, boy,
because it has a small waist ; (4) Juluiutu, spider ; (5) Nkungu,
a triangular pattern. There is a very large number of designs.
155
WATER GAMES
but some children are more expert than others in forming
them accurately and easily.
14. Nsau ya mai, or water games, of which the following
This Design is named Ndako, or House. If the picture is
turned upside down the Pitch of the Roof will be clearly seen,
the Ridge-pole and Wall-plates.
Called by the Natives : Narrow Roads through the Farms.
three are .specimens : (1) Nkoli (crocodile). An active boy
represents a crocodile, and diving beneath the water tries
to catch the feet of his comrades, and others try to cajiture
him. If they succeed in so doing they thereupon pretend to
156
These men are having a small drinking*bout and a little music. The band consists of one drum, one trumpet, and one iron gong
played by the man at the end of the row.
BULL-ROARERS
kill him and cut him up ; but if he catches a playmate they
exchange places. (2) Tasana (to find one another). One dives
and remains quiet under the water, while another searches
for him. (3) Munteko (game of touch in the water). If one
lad fails to catch or touch another, the others sing, “ Otenda
tendaka yau nzala ya nkabu ” (You will not grow, you eat
greedily, but are always hungry). The boy becomes angry
at this taunt, and renews his efforts to catch one of them.
The Boloki are good swimmers, great divers, and can remain
under the water for a long time ; and undoubtedly these
water games help them to become so much at home in the
river.
The elder lads often brought out their thin, well-balanced
fighting spears, and having selected a growing plantain with
a stalk about 5 inches in diameter, they would stand from
60 to 80 feet away and launch their spears in turn at the
stalk. I have seen them pierce the stalk right through again
and again. I have tried spear-throwing, and it is not so easy
as it looks. There is a knack in holding the spear-haft well
down across the palm of the hand, so that the whole force
of the arm is conveyed to the spear. The lads, when they
saw my poor attempts at spear-throwing, used to say laughingly
to me, “ Ah, white man, if you would fight us with spears,
and not with guns, we would soon wipe you out.”
Bull-roarers are known and made ; but the elders do not
like the lads to play with them, and give as their reason :
“ You are calling the leopards.” This is because the whirl
of the bamboo makes a sound like the growling of a leopard.
The young girls have an interesting little dance in which
they form a circle around one of their number, who is on all
fours in the centre. As the girls in the ring sing about the
different animals, as the leopard, the hippopotamus, the
crocodile, the elephant, etc., the girl in the middle imitates
the movements of the animal, and she receives praise or
ridicule according to her ability to imitate the movements
accurately.
157
WRESTLING
The men and women take very little part in any of these
games (except the men at lohesi), but they monopolize a large
share in all the dances, and in most of the dances the sexes
are mixed. Wrestling of a rough-and-ready kind is indulged
in by the lads ; and round the fires of an evening stories are
told with dramatic power, and conundrums are propounded
and answered. Although Congo is practically a toy less land,
and so far as the adults are concerned the children are not
catered for, yet from their loud laughter the young folk seem
to extract a great amount of pleasure out of life. The boys
delight in talking a slang language of their own manufacture,
which is called jimu. They select a syllable, say “ sa,” and
insert it between the syllables of the words they use, so mboka=
village becomes mbo-sa-ka = vil-sa-lage. They acquire great
glibness in this kind of talk, and enjoy the fun that it brings
in mystifying others.
158
CHAPTER XI
A PAGE OF NATIVE HISTORY
A great inland sea — The Boloki and Bantus — The Boloki man — A native
retort — Meaning of Bangala — Movements of tribes— Murder of Boloki
chief — Refuge in a tree— Boloki raiding — A famous chief— Comets an
evidence of greatness — Tribal marks and meaning.
There is much evidence in favour of the theory that
the low-lying country of the Congo basin was once
the bottom of a great inland sea, with here and there
the highest points of land rearing their heads above the water,
and thus forming numerous islands. The pressure and rush
of water gradually wore down the barriers made by the ridge
of rocks running across the river at Kintamo, and now forming
the Kintamo Falls, thus draining the country and rendering
it habitable. Then came another silting up, and the lower
levels of the country, that had been covered in the meantime
by trees and grass, were again flooded, and heavy deposits
of clay were dropped on to and pressed down the vegetable
growth. When the river was extremely low one year in the
Monsembe district, I noticed for many miles a stratum of
vegetable matter, about three inches thick, with here and there
a tree of six inches diameter, a good eleven feet below the top
of the bank. This vegetable layer was not fossilized, but was
extremely hard, and though of a blackish brown colour,
every vein in the leaves, and every line in the grass, was clear
and perfect.
It is highly probable that as the Congo basin was drained
the Bantus pressed down from their northern homes ; and
159
THE BOLOKI MAN
the Boloki tribe for greater seeurity, perhaps, took possession
of the Libinza Lake, and enlarged the islets they found there
into places large enough to hold one, two, or more families.
The Boloki tribe belongs to the great Bantu race that
stretches from 6° north of the Equator to Cape Town, and
from the east to fhe west coast. The Bantus reach a higher
latitude on the western than on the eastern side of the African
continent, and here and there we find dotted over this vast
tract of country small tribes — like the Hottentots, the Bush-
men, the Pigmies, etc. — that are remnants probably of the
aborigines of the country. These portions of tribes, speaking
other than Bantu dialects, have not been absorbed, for geo-
graphical and other reasons, by their more civilized Bantu
neighbours during the progress of many generations ; but
are there to-day like so many isolated pages of primitive
history.
The Boloki man is above the average height, of sturdy
frame, well-developed limbs, and splendidly proportioned
body. When necessity has demanded it, he has paddled
me for fifteen hours with only one short interval for food ;
but “ on the road ” he is not a good walker, for he finds his
rations too heavy a burden, much more a 70-lb. load such as
the Lower Congo man carries with a light heart and step
for many days. In the canoe the Boloki swings his paddle
with much grace, and if a drum is beaten, or a song is sung,
the line of twenty paddlers will dip, bend, and raise their
paddles in perfect time to the rhythm of the drum, or the lilt
of the song.
The Boloki man is sociable and of a kindly disposition,
but liable to fits of uncontrollable passion, and is then capable
of great cruelty. He is fond of a laugh, enjoys a good joke,
and appreciates a repartee, which he gives and takes in good
humour.
We make more than three hundred dinners a year off fowls
— they are very cheap, and are the most regular form of fresh
meat that we can procure. Speaking with a native one day, I
1(50
Photo by'] {Rev. G. P. Moore
Mangwende — A Typical Boloki Head-man
Running up the forehead will be seen the cock's-comb tribal mark, above which is the
plait of hair worn by the better-class men, and on the temple the palm-leaf mark.
A NATIVE RETORT
laughingly twitted him with the scarcity of fowls and the
difficulty of buying any in his village.
He at once retorted : “ White man, if all the fowls you have
eaten from our village were to cackle and crow simultaneously
in your stomach, there would be a tremendous noise.” And
as he spoke there w^as a good-humoured twinkle in his eye
as he conjured up the noisy scene.
Formerly the term Bangala w'as applied only to those
natives who lived at Diboko (Nouvelles Anvers), and for forty
or fifty miles up and down the river on either [side of them ;
but in a work published in Brussels called Les Bangalas,^
the term Bangala is made to cover an area reaching far east
of Bopoto, west of Equatorville, north of the Welle, and
south of the Congo River for some distance. This includes
a dozen or more different tribes, talking as many distinct
languages, having various tribal marks, possessing in many
instances very different customs, etc., and among whom
there is nothing in common except their black skins and
backwardness in civilization. Since seeing the above-mentioned
book, I have preferred using Boloki as a more definite term
for denoting the inhabitants of certain towns on the main
river, on the Mobangi River, and the Libinza Lake. Inter-
mixed with the Boloki towms on the Congo River are other
towns belonging to a hinterland people well known to us as
the Bomuna.
The Boloki folk have very hazy ideas about relationship,
and scarcely any two will give the same name to all the relatives,
and, moreover, if you take a list of the names of relations from
a young man and put it aw'ay for six months, and then ask
the same lad about the same relations in the same order as
before, with your list in front of you, he will give you another
set of names that will not tally with your first one in several
points. I have made many attempts to draw up a complete
list,^ and if I had been satisfied to take one man and examine
* By M. Cyr. van Overbergh and M. de Jonghe.
^ See Appendix, Note 4, page 342.
161
L
MOVEMENT OF TRIBES
him once only, I might have procured a list of the names
of relations that would have been full, but it would have
been inaccurate, i.e, it would have been that man’s list then, but
it would not have been his six or eight months later, and it
would not have been anyone else’s list even at the time he
gave it to me. In this there was no desire to deceive us, for
we found the same difficulty on the Lower Congo.
Among the Boloki there is no historical literature, for not
a single member of the tribe could write until we taught
them ; but although there is no written history there has been
much oral communication dealing with the origin of the tribe,
the place from whence it came, the approximate time of the
migration, and the reason for it. Their communications
have been handed from father to son, and the facts have been
the eonstant theme of fireside conversations.
The following incidents conneeted with the migrations
of a large portion of the tribe from the low-lying Libinza
Lake district to the main river I gathered from a man of
about 35 years of age, of good intelligence, and I have
every reason to believe that they are the putting together of
what he frequently heard around the ev'ening fires, as well as
what he learned from his father. Besides, in ehatting with
other folk, I have gathered various particulars that confirm
his statements, and the constant antagonism shown by the
Bomuna people to the Boloki, and the geographical distri-
bution of these two tribes, all go to prove the truthfulness
the main facts of this page from native history.
The Bomuna people, about the middle of the nineteenth
century, eame from the bush towns lying in the forest between
the Mobangi and the Congo Rivers, and settled on the bank
of the main river. Not being a riverine people, they had
no knowledge of swimming, and possessed no canoes. They
worked their way along the river’s bank from the Monsembe
district up-river until they came to the Ejeba stream, near
the village of Nyoi, which deep stream they passed by means
of a stout eane-ereeper that happened to stretch across the
162
Pho'o by'\ [the Aitthoy
A Monitor
These creatures «'ire very scarce ; but our lads killed this one. and brought it to me before cutting
it up for the saucepan. It was 8 feet 7 inches long.
A Native Hut
A native house of the size and shape that we bought for 5s. id. The old man on the right illlus-
traies a method of hair dressing— shaving the hair so as to show a very round face and high
forehead.
MOVEMENT OF TRIBES
water from the overhanging trees. Many passed, and while
others were working their way hand over hand along the eane
creeper it broke, and thus severed the only means of eommuni-
cation between those on the opposite sides of the stream.
Those who found themselves on the eastern side continued
their journey, and founded the settlements of Diboko (some-
times called Iboko), now Nouvelles Anvers. Thus the ancient
people of Diboko were Bomuna of the tribe of Bobanga, of
whom the chief, Mata Bwiki, is the best known to fame, being
the head-man who encountered Stanley, and on whose land
the Congo Free State built their station of Nouvelles Anvers.
The Bomuna folk left on the western side of the stream
settled on suitable town sites in the Mungala Creek above
Monsembe, and along the banks of the main river below
Monsembe. I knew this braneh of the tribe well as being both
ignorant and timid in all matters relating to water and
canoes.
Between forty and fifty years ago some Libinza Lake people
of the tribe of Boloki left their swampy island homes under
the leadership of Munyata, and working their way in shallow
canoes through the creeks, they came out on the main river
near to Moboko. They paddled down the river to the Mungala
Creek, whieh at that time was inhabited by Bomuna people.
There Munyata made blood-brotherhood with Munkua, the
chief of the Bomuna, and settled there with his people. The
Bomuna at that time possessed no spears, but did their hunting
and fighting with sharpened sticks, the points of which were
hardened in the fire. Munyata presented Munkua with a
spear, and received a fine young woman as a return present.
Munyata, the Boloki chief, was apparently a very grasping
man, for although he had several wives he coveted more,
and was always asking Munkua for one of his. For a time
Munkua occasionally gave one ; but Munyata let it be known
that any woman who ran to him would be retained, and so
mueh was the Boloki chief admired and feared, that one after
another of the wives of Munkua eseaped to him, until at last
163
MURDER OF BOLOKI CHIEF
only one, his favourite, or principal (nkundi) wife was left,
and she was eventually stolen from him by Munyata. So
exasperated was Munkua by this treatment that, taking
advantage of the first opportunity that offered, he speared
Munyata to death.
On the murder of Munyata the Boloki folk came out in
crowds from the Libinza Lake to avenge the death of their
head-man, and so successful were they with their iron spears
against the sharpened sticks of the Bomuna that, although
more numerous, the latter gave way before their fierce on-
slaught. Many escaped, but some took refuge in a high bombax
tree. The tree was surrounded by the Boloki, who threatened
to starve their enemies to death unless they submitted ;
and apparently after some palavering the entrapped people
had the privilege accorded to them of selecting their own
future owners. Thus one would say, “ I will take So-and-so
as my master,” and on his request being agreed to he would
climb down the tree and take his place among the followers
of his new master. In this way they divided themselves
among their conquerors, and it seems from all accounts they
were well treated by the Boloki.
Other contingents of the Boloki came out on to the main
river and wrested sites from the Bomuna at Monsembe,
Lobengu, Maleli, and Bokomela, and up-river at Bombilinga.
In the meantime the Diboko Bomuna had increased in numbers,
had become possessed of canoes, and had learned the way to
manage them. Their numbers also had been greatly augmented,
and their passions inflamed by those who had escaped from
the Mungala Creek before, and during, the fight caused by
the death of Munyata. These Diboko Bomuna so harassed
and fought the Mungala Creek Boloki that numbers of them
fled up-river (undoubtedly passing behind the islands to avoid
their enemies at Diboko), and established themselves at
Mobeka, at the mouth of the Mungala River many miles above
Diboko. When first we went to live at Monsembe a very high
tree that stood on the bank at the bend of the river was pointed
164
LIBINZA LAKE
out to me as their post of observation when watching for the
Diboko Bomuna.
The Boloki tribe in 1890 possessed the following districts on
the north bank of the Congo : Mobeka, at the mouth of the Mun-
gala River, Bombilinga, the Mungala Creek towns, Monsembe,
Lobengu, situated in the Mangala Creek, Moleli, Bokomela,
and Bungundu. On the south bank they owned Bokumbi,
Libulula, and Bolombo. At some time or other the people
of Bungundu, Bokomela, Moleli, and Lobengu were called
Mangala, and gave their name to the creek in which their
principal town was built. Perhaps there was a powerful family
called Mangala, and this has been corrupted into Bangala ;
or the Mungala River was supposed to be the original home
of these people, and as mu means place, locality, and ba means
people, it was easy to call the people the Bangala. I am
rather inclined to the latter reason for the origin of the term
among white people, but the natives themselves never used
the name Bangala.
Near to Mobeka are the Ngombe people, who are also called
Bokumbi, and this tribe in 1908 was becoming mixed with
the neighbouring tribes ; and as they are being absorbed into
them they no longer call themselves Ngombe or Bokumbi,
but appropriate the names of the peoples whose language
they learn and whose tribal mark they imitate. The hinter-
land folk of Diboko belong to the 3Iokulu tribe, and the Bomuna
of Diboko to the Bobanga tribe ; others in between the Boloki
towns down to Bokomela retain their old name of Bomuna.
Below Bokomela is the Mbonji tribe that came originally from
the bush. The Baloi on the Mobangi River are Boloki from
Lake Libinza.
The Libinza Lake is a large sheet of shallow’ water that
drains itself, by the Ngiri River, into the Mobangi, and retains
its distinctive eolour for many miles. Islands have been
slowly made with great labour, and they need constant watching
or they will be washed away by the annual floods. The folk
drove stakes around any slight elevations shown at low water,
165
A FAMOUS CHIEF
and then dug up clay and mud from the bottom of the lake
and put inside the stakes, and thus formed an island. These
islands are small, but they are numerous, and are often linked
together by bridges. There are some large islands, but most
of them are small. The lake was thickly populated in the
nineties with expert fishermen and saucepan-makers ; and they
often came out in parties of twenty and thirty to fish with
their peculiar box-shaped nets, and to sell their fish, their
saucepans, and “ fire-pots ” to the riverine people for cassava
roots. They frequently camped on our beach, and thus we
saw much of them. The Libinza folk lived chiefly on plantains,
as cassava would not grow in their swampy soil, hence they
always exchanged their wares for cassava ; and this may have
been one of the reasons why Munyata came out from the lake,
to establish a centre of exchange for cassava roots.
The tribe near the river always ridicules the tribe behind
in the bush, as the Boloki laugh at the Bomuna, and the
Bomuna at the Ndobo people further behind. The Boloki
are proud of their name and their origin ; and the neighbouring
tribes acknowledge their courage and endurance, and prefer
their friendship to their enmity. The following is an instance
of their bravery and the long distances the Boloki men paddled
on their raiding expeditions : In the beginning of 1891 there
was a big fight in our vicinity, and on inquiring the cause
we learned that the reason for the fight between these Boloki
towns was this : A year or two before our arrival the Boloki
of the Monsembe district paddled over 300 miles up-river and
raided the Bopoto riverine towns, carrying off a quantity
of loot and a number of captives ; and the unsatisfactory
division of the spoils culminated in the fight that cost some
few lives.
About 1870 there lived at Mobeka (one of the Boloki toAvns)
a chief who styled himself Monolco mwa Nkoi, or Mouth of a
Leopard, for he boasted that, like that animal, he never let
go any person unfortunate enough to fall into his clutches.
He was the terror of the district, and a message from him made
166
COMETS AN EVIDENCE OF GREATNESS
a whole town quake with fear ; and a demand from him was
instantly obeyed from apprehension of the consequences.
He was a man of war, a cruel warrior who held life cheap ;
and he burnt down many a town, scattered the people, or
took them as slaves. On one of his raids among the Bopoto
towns (which district is about 130 miles above Mobeka) he
was mortally wounded and carried back to his town, where
he died. About the time of his death a large comet appeared,
which was described by my informant as being “ like a large
star with a hat on it.” It was seen for three nights in suecession,
and was regarded as a sign of the greatness of Monoko mwa
Nkoi.
Abnormal appearances in the sky are either the evidences
of the death of some great chief whom they do not know,
because he lived and died among a distant tribe, or are a proof
of the greatness of a chief who has died within the limits of
their own district. I have also known them to blame a lad,
recently buried, for the tornado that was rushing across
their village, shaking their huts and uprooting their plantains
and bananas. They abused him in unmeasured language,
and expressed the hope that he would be “ humbugged ”
in the nether regions. Emanya of Diboko is the name of
another fighter whose cruel exploits are the subject of con-
versations around the evening fires.
The tattoo marks give indications of tribal movements,
and also some idea of the various component parts that go to
the making of a village community. I have noticed three kinds
of tattooing among the Boloki. (1) A single line of elliptical
punch-marks running from temple to temple just above the
eyebrows. (2) A cock’s comb (called likrvala) running from
the tip of the nose in some, and from between the eyebrows
in others, to the crown of the head. (3) A cock’s comb plus
a palm leaf on each temple, or some other marking. When
you look at the profile of a man his tattoo stands out like a
cock’s comb, hence the name.
The first kind of tattooing — line of elliptical punch-marks —
167
TRIBAL MARKS AND MEANING
is to be found only on the old men and women, indieating
that they are probably some of the original contingent of
Libinza Lake people who forced a footing on the main river.
They cling to the Libinza tribal mark, being proud of their
kinsfolk and their origin. The second tattoo is seen on boys
and girls, and on men and women from 35 downwards,
and shows that the new marking had come into fashion when
they were young, and was sufficiently in favour to supplant
the old Libinza marking. On men and women from 35
to 45 there were (in 1900) slight traces of the Libinza
marks, but the cock’s comb was the more prominent tattoo.
Whence did they borrow the cock’s-comb tattoo ? is a question
I have often asked myself ; or did they originate it as a dis-
tinctive mark of their own as they became a separate tribe and
the ties binding them to the Libinza people gradually faded ?
The third set of marks is to be found on the slaves, who imitate
the tattoo of their masters. Hence the Mongo tribal marks —
lumps the size of a bean on the nose and across the forehead —
will be seen on a man in conjunction with the cock’s comb ;
or the palm leaf on the temples — mark of a tribe on the upper
Lulanga River — and the cock’s comb. Slaves captured or
bought young allow their distinctive tribal mark to disappear,
and try to work up a good-sized cock’s comb like their owners,
so as to be regarded as belonging to the same tribe as their
masters.
168
CHAPTER XII
NATIVE GOVERNMENT AND THE
NATIVES
No paramount chiefs— Head-man rules his own family — Stanley’s “ Lord of
many guns ” — Monanga^ a term of respect — The alien is robbed — The
guest protected — Arrival of canoes — Estimation of native character —
Good memories — Learning to read pictures — Timid and superstitious —
Lack of reverence — Pride — Greedy and mean.
Among the Bolokl there are no paramount chiefs. Each
town has its set of families that prefer living together, and
^ each family has its head called mala, who is the eldest son,
and who as eldest takes the title and the largest share of the
estate. At any time a family is at liberty to break away from
the rest and live by itself on a new site. The mata may be a
man with wives, slaves, and followers numbering from 200 to
300 and even more, or the mata may not be able to muster
more than fifteen or twenty people ; yet as head of his family
he possesses the same title [mata] as the more powerful ones.
Stanley in his books on the Congo uses many phrases about
Mata Bwiki of Diboko (now Nouvelles Anvers) that favour the
idea that he was an overlord, or lord paramount of the dis-
trict ; but that was not so. Mata bwiki simply means Head-
man Plenty, or Plentifulness. Stanley, I think, gives as its
meaning, “ Lord of Many Guns,” but his name then should
have been, Monanga wa bibau biki =\ord of guns many. Stanley
on his memorable journey happened to go ashore at the landing-
place belonging to B wiki’s family, and he as head of his family
took the lead in Stanley’s reception. If Stanley had landed
169
MONANGA A TERM OF RESPECT
half a mile above or half a mile below that particular spot he
might never have heard of Mata Bwiki.
The word monanga is used in a restricted way as meaning
a free-born person, either male or female. It also is employed
as a term of respect and means “ lord,” and frequently is
equivalent to Mr., Monsieur, etc. It is attached to the name
of any man to whom or of whom you wish to speak with
deference and respect. We are always addressed as monanga,
but never as mata ; and many of the more wealthy natives
who are not mata are spoken of as monanga, and all who are
entitled to be called mata have a right to be addressed as
monanga, but they prefer the former title. Mata is distinctly
the hereditary designation of the eldest son and points to him
as the head of his family, and monanga a courtesy title of
respect.
The mata then governs all matters relating to his own
family, and from his decisions there is no appeal. Undoubtedly
he calls together the elder folk of his family to counsel him on
important affairs ; and these head-men of the village meet under
the wild fig tree, or in the palaver house, and decide village
matters as between family and family, and also their policy
towards other villages in the district. There is an unwritten
code of laws dealing with most offences, and by these the heads
of the families judge eaeh other and the members of their
own families.
The status of a person in the family and town council depends
on whether he is entirely free-born, or slave-born, or partly so.
A child of slaves is a slave, and as such his advice is never
sought ; a child of a slave father by a free woman, or of a slave
woman by a free father, is a semi-slave (mbotela), but the posi-
tion of the latter in the family life is much higher than that of
the slave, yet of course he does not rank so high as the child
born of free parents. Birth alone constitutes membership of
the family and tribe. A slave who redeems himself (a very
rare occurrence, for all that a slave earns belongs to his master)
will be tolerated in his attempts to pass himself off as a member
170
THE ALIEN IS ROBBED
of the tribe ; he may affect the tribal mark, and also plait his
beard, etc., and his wealth may win respect, but being of no
family he will have no influence in the palavers of the village.
In dealing with an alien it is not considered wrong to rob,
beat, abuse, or even murder him, unless he has come on a visit,
for trade or other purposes, to someone in the town. He will
then be under the protection of his host, and receiving the
hospitality of his host he will also receive the hospitality of
the town and neighbourhood. The host will have a casus
belli against anyone who molests his guest ; and a village, on
the other hand, will hold a host responsible for the offensive
actions of his guest. Men and women travelling alone, or in
twos and threes in places where they are not known, run the
risk of being captured. Such defenceless travellers hide by
day and travel by night to their destinations.
Green, in his Shorter History of England, says that “ in
ancient times the painted British savage on approaching a
village sounded a horn to warn the villagers of his coming,
otherwise he would have been treated as an enemy who tried
to surprise them by stealth.” Among the Boloki it is the
custom that when a canoe containing six or more men ap-
proaches a town they have to beat a drum and sing to notify
the folk of their coming, otherwise they are treated as enemies
and lay themselves open to an attack. For a canoe of strangers
from other towns and districts to approach a town unannounced
by drum and song is regarded as an act of war. If their coming
is peaceful, why are they afraid to drum and sing ? I have
seen the crew of such a canoe badly handled for omitting these
courtesies, and but for our presence some of the travellers
would have been speared.
The mata in the performance of his duties as head-man has
to guard, in the interests of his family, all those palm trees
and nsafu {canuarensis) trees that have been planted by his
forebears. The proprietary rights in these trees are by in-
heritance, or by planting them, and the rights in them are
handed on from father to son in the proper line of heirship.
171
ESTIMATION OF NATIVE CHARACTER
They are sourees of wealth to a family, and the members of a
family support their ehief man when those rights are infringed.
The head-man in the government of his family holds a very
diffieult position when sitting in judgment on a relative, for
such is the character of the family life that if he fines the
delinquent he will be punishing himself indirectly — the family
stands or falls together. Robbery, adultery, wounding, and
murder when committed within the limits of one’s own family
will receive the strong disapprobation of the other members,
but there is no punishment that the mata can inflict unless
the offender is a boy, and then a sound thrashing will be
administered ; for will they not be punishing themselves if
they insist on the infliction of a fine and to whom can the
fine be paid ? The fine imposed would have to be paid by
the family to itself. The mala, therefore, in ruling his family
exercises his greatest tact in maintaining the various units of
which it is composed in the friendliest relation to each other
and to himself. Then he has to keep a strong hand on the
family slaves, for he and his family will be held responsible
for whatever offences they commit against other families ;
and if they fight and quarrel amongst themselves, his only
wise course is to sell them and buy others who may not be so
contentious.
I never came across a more democratic form of government
on the Congo than that of the Boloki tribe. There is no prestige
of birth to help, as among the Lower Congo chiefs, for his
subjects are of the same blood as himself — except his slaves,
and they are his property and not his subjects. He has no
position of priesthood (as the family “ medicine man ”) to
inspire with awe those who owe fealty to him as head-man ;
and there is no position he can gain in any secret society that
will inspire with fear of him the other members of his family.
His position is no sinecure, and while his trouble is great his
perquisites are few.
Perhaps this will be the best place to attempt an estimate
of the Boloki folk who thus live in families each under the
172
LEARNING TO READ PICTURES
rule of a head-man, and in village eommunities governed by
elders or head-men. Their memories are exeeedingly good
respecting the debts owing to them, but with regard to the
debts they owe they have, or pretend to have, very bad memo-
ries— it is for the creditor to keep in mind the debts owing to
him, and to bring the proofs at the proper time.
There are occasionally cases of insanity among them, some
caused by uterine trouble, and others are the results of sleeping-
sickness. If insanity is of long duration and the patients are
destructive or troublesome, they are quietly put out of the
way. I only met with one man who ran amok. He had had a
very serious illness, and either the illness or the decoctions
given to him to effect his cure made him temporarily mad.
He cut down all the plantain trees in his path, and destroyed
everything he came near ; the people cleared out of his way,
but being a man of importance he got off without any payment
of damages.
When I went first to live among the people of Monsembe
I had with me a roughly bound volume of the Illustrated London
News. It w’as very interesting to watch the development of
their artistic faculties. At first they looked at a picture and
asked what the marks were ; they held the picture anyhow,
and looked at it from any point that might be convenient to
them without any regard to the picture being right side up,
or upside down, or any other way. By and by they began to
pick out the features, one by one, and say, “ Why, it is a man ! ”
They would pick out the doors, windows, walls, etc., and re-
mark, “ Why, it is a house ! ” After a time they would drop
this spelling out, as it were, of the picture and say, “ A man,
a woman, a house,” etc., at once. Later on, they would take
in the whole of a picture at a glance. I suppose it is in this
way we learn pictures in our childhood — spell them out.
It was interesting to watch the same process in young men,
women, and adults.
I remember one day a man was looking at a picture of the
members of the L.C.C. gathered in their council chamber.
173
RESPECT FOR FORCE
He asked what it meant, and I explained the signifieance of
the assembly. He eould only see well with one eye, and with
that one he very earefully scanned the whole of the picture
for two or three minutes, and then he asked in an incredulous
tone of voice : “ This is a picture of men met to talk palavers,
but where are their spears and knives ? ” The natives never
talked palavers without having their spears and knives ready
to hand, hence the doubt expressed in his question and voice.
The native has immense respect for force, but totally de-
spises gentleness. He likes to be treated with kindness and
consideration, but instead of regarding such treatment as an
expression of your goodness he considers it a sign of your
weakness, and will behave accordingly. If you point out to
him that you treat him with kindness and expect some con-
sideration in return, he will acknowledge that that is fair and
right, and will for a time try to act more thoughtfully, but
soon the better feeling will pass away unless you constantly
remind him of his many deficiencies — of all that he has to
learn and all that he needs to become.
To teach a native that he is your equal in all things is not
to incite a desire on his part to emulate you, but rather tends
to cause him to regard you with disrespect and contempt.
The native knows he is not your equal, and he thinks you must
have a despicable twist in your vision, and some bad, ulterior
motive, if you think that he is your equal and wish him also
to believe the same. I teach him that he is a creature of God
as I am, that the Redeemer died as much for him as for me,
and that God will judge him righteously, and will show neither
of us favour or disfavour on account of the colour of our skins.
At the same time, the relation between teacher and taught
must be maintained, and he must be made to understand in
how many ways he must be changed — morally, intellectually,
and socially ; and that before he can take his place among
civilized and Christian men he must rise out of his degrading
superstitions, control his lusts, govern his passions, and strive
after all that is good, noble, and beautiful. He will admit
174
NOT LACKING IN GRATITUDE
that you are his superior in every way, but unless you firmly
insist on his taking his right position as a learner he will con-
duct himself towards you with less respect than he pays to
the smallest and poorest chief in his district, and in a short
time your influence will be gone and you will wonder why.
Treat the native with respect, and insist on receiving the
same from him ; treat him with firmness, decision, masterful-
ness, and he will go as a rule as far as you want him to go. Faith-
fully keep all your promises and fulfil all your threats, therefore
never make a promise you do not intend to redeem, and never
threaten a thing you are not able, on the face of it, to perform,
i.e. treat the native with gentle firmness, persuasive force,
and masterful consideration, and you will get the best out of
him, and cause him to respect himself while respecting you.
The native can love and he can hate ; but he is neither a
good lover nor a strong hater. His affections are neither
steady nor permanent. He will, however, remember a wrong
committed against him much longer than a good deed done
to help him. He is moved more by fear of pain, by loss of
material profit, and by public opinion than swayed by prin-
ciples and arguments. He will float with the stream rather
than continually struggle against it ; but at the same time he
can obstinately and doggedly follow a course that will result
in physical pain, financial loss, and ridicule if he is once per-
suaded that his ultimate interests lie in that direction.
He is not lacking in gratitude, but he is afraid of displaying
it lest a favour be asked of him in return. When you visit
him he will remind you of the fact that you mended his broken
leg or cured his disease, not to make it the basis of a generous
act towards you, but rather as a plea to procure something
extra out of you by awakening your further interest in him.
In some districts you will find he is more a liar than a thief,
and if you investigate you will discover that the fines imposed
for thieving are such as to deter him from following his in-
clination to steal. In other districts, where the native laws
are more lax, he will excel both in thieving and lying, but he
175
TIMID AND SUPERSTITIOUS
will readily admit they arc vices worthy of stringent punish-
ment, aird will express his regret that the thief stole either
from you or from himself, and at the same time he will be
doing his best to rob you.
Before the unknown and mysterious he is timid and very
superstitious. He will regard you as a god, and yet try to
fight you ; he will superstitiously believe that you have
wonderful occult powers that ean stop the rain, cause pestilence
and plagues, and yet he will not attempt to conciliate you, but
will savagely shout at you to clear out of his town and take
your witchcraft elsewhere. When fighting with a gun he is
timid, nervous, and apparently very cowardly, because he
does not understand the mysteries of gunpowder ; but give him
a shield and a spear and his bravery is evidenced by his boldness
in a fight, and his utter indifference to wounds and death.
The mysterious overawes, paralyses him, but superstitious
fears will often arouse the very demon of cruelty and vindie-
tiveness, and incite to boldness and recklessness.
He lacks reverence, but is easily filled with awe and overcome
by wonder. The stars in their courses make for him no song
around the eternal throne ; but the smoke ascending from his
great bush-fires forming a halo round the sun will make him
quake with fear because it is an omen of evil. The movements
of the sun and the moon awaken no admiration in him ; but ex-
hibit some poor conjuring trick, or a shilling mechanical to}% and
his eyes and mouth are not big enough to express his wonder.
He is prouder than Lucifer is reputed to be, and will resent
the smallest slight put upon his so-called dignity. In a fit of
overweening vanity he Avill sacrifice everything he possesses,
and destroy all his future prospects to satisfy the pride of the
moment. His family may be insignificant, his town paltry,
himself small and dirty, but touch his pride and he will act
as though he were un grand seigneur. He himself must be the
judge of what hurts his pride, not you. He has his own code
of honour and etiquette, difficult at times for you to understand,
hence you wonder at some of the exhibitions of his pride.
176
GREEDY AND MEAN
His memory is well trained, and his powers of observation
keen and minute ; his ability to adapt himself to his sur-
roundings is wonderful, and his imitative faculties are re-
markable ; but he lacks power of mental concentration and
logical thought. His physical powers are highly developed —
he will carry a heavy load, from 70 lbs. to 80 lbs., up and down
hill and across broken country, or paddle a heavy canoe hour
after hour, without exhibiting much fatigue ; but he cannot,
or will not, follow a line of thought, metaphorically speaking,
for twenty yards. His reasoning and reflective faculties are
stunted, undeveloped, for they have been exercised upon
nothing more profound than the very alphabet of existence.
He knows that two and two make four — that certain results
follow certain causes, but that a series of causes will produce
a series of results complicated and wide-spreading in their
effect he cannot grasp. He has no power of deduction, and
little or no faculty for producing a well-developed plot or
involved plan.
With those who have a right to a share of meat or cloth,
etc., he will be most scrupulous in dividing the article into
equal portions, forgetting no one ; but to those who have no
right to a share he will be niggardly, mean, selfish, and grasp-
ing. His apparent generosity is innate selfishness, for he only
gives that he may receive more in return, and be the giver
black or white he will complain bitterly if the return present
is not so large as his greed imagined it should be. Perhaps
this trait in his character may be accounted for by his desire
to have a grand funeral — the talk of the village or the country-
side. For this he will save and scheme, lie and steal, rob his
neighbours, his wives, and his children to hoard up cloth, etc., for
his own burial, that he may have a good start in the spirit land.
He has a wonderful power of imitation, but he lacks inven-
tion and initiative ; but this lack is undoubtedly due to
suppression of the inventive faculty. For generations it has
been the custom to charge with witchcraft anyone who has
commenced a new industry or discovered a new article of
177
H
BENEFICIAL RESULTS
barter. The making of anything out of the ordinary has brought
on the maker a charge of witchcraft that again and again has
resulted in death by the ordeal. To know more than others,
to be more skilful than others, more energetic, more acute in
business, more smart in dress, has often caused a charge of
witchcraft and death. Therefore the native to save his life
and live in peace has smothered his inventive faculty, and all
spirit of enterprise has been driven out of him.
In the foregoing sketch I have generalized, and have not
allowed for the exceptions that are always to be found to
every rule. Anyone who has lived among the natives, and
has known them intimately, will supply examples of those
who were kind, generous, grateful, of others who were affec-
tionate, devoted, unselfish, and again of others who were
patient, brave, faithful, and persevering ; but these exceptions
show that they are capable of being possessed by the noblest
virtues and swayed by the highest and purest motives. Genera-
tions of superstition and moral degradation have not entirely
obliterated from among them examples of kindness of heart
and generosity of feeling, and these examples assure us that
with proper care and cultivation such virtues and graces may
become more widespread.
Those of us who teach the native in the workshop and the
school find through stirring up his moral and mental depths
many undesirable qualities coming to the top, and these we
repress ; but, on the other hand, pleasant traits also exhibit
themselves, and these we try to cultivate. The beneficial
results may not be obvious to the unseeing eye in the first
generation, and perhaps not in the second, but they will
manifest themselves in due course. The civilization of England
is the outcome of a thousand years’ teaching and training,
and you cannot expect us to attain the same results in a
generation or two. It is, at least, unfair of those who boast
of their “ superiority ” to criticize us for not accomplishing
in a generation with “inferior” material what it has taken
a score of generations to accomplish in their own case.
178
CHAPTER XIII
NATIVE LAWS, CRIMES, AND ORDEALS
The family judge — The chief judge — Stolen property — Punishment for
murder — Adultery — The Court — Native advocates — No oaths adminis-
tered— Giving the ordeal — Various ordeals — An impartial judge needed
— White man as judge — A selection of cases.
IT has already been stated in a previous chapter that the
mata or head-man of the family dealt with all matters
relating to his own family, and against his verdict there
was no appeal ; and also that the heads of the several families
forming a town would meet together and arrange the affairs
of their various families ; but it sometimes happened that
these “ heads ” disagreed, and there was a need to call in
some outsider to settle the case.
In every district there is a chief who is appointed by the
towns of the district to act as chief judge in all important
matters — at palavers between family and family, and town
and town. At the time of his appointment the “ heads ” of
all the families living in the district who desired to come under
his jurisdiction cut down his plantain and banana trees.
This action gave him a casm belli against all the towns that
acknowledged him as a judge. By cutting down his plantains
he became the offended party, and as such had the right of
aggressive action against the offenders. Now, it was the
custom that the people of the offending town must not go to
fight the offended town, but must wait for the offended ones
to attack them — the offenders. No subsequent quarrel could
be taken up until the first was settled. Hence the chief ap-
179
STOLEN PROPERTY
pointed as judge might enrage a town by his decision, and might
call on the other towns to help him in enforcing his verdict, yet
the said town could not attack the chief judge’s town because
of the old-standing and unsettled palaver of cutting down his
plantains and bananas. This ensured to the chief judge
immunity from quarrels Avith the people who did not like his
decisions, and his immunity from all such quarrels was a
guarantee that there would be a certain amount of justice and
impartiality in the verdicts given. He was paid to act as judge
by those who sought his services, and the fees remunerated
him for his temporary loss from his destroyed plantains and
bananas.
There is an unwritten code of rough-and-ready laws to
guide the head-men and chief judge in deciding cases. Stolen
property found on anyone can be claimed by the owner, and
the possessor made to pay a fine unless he can prove by wit-
nesses that the article was either given to him or he had bought
it. The giver or seller then paid the fine, and in addition re-
turned the money he received of the buyer. The thief, besides
returning the stolen article or replacing it, pays, as a fine,
an amount equal to the value of the goods stolen, and the robbed
person will retain a part of the fine and give the rest to those
who helped him to enforce the verdict.
When an article is stolen the owmer walks through the town
calling out a description of it, and invoking on the thief all
the fetish curses that come to his mind. These curses are often
so frightful as to intimidate the thief, and frequently the stolen
goods are secretly replaced. When it is farm produce that has
been purloined, say some cassava, the robbed woman ties a
piece of cassava in the cleft end of a stick, and fixes just below
it a piece of Euphorbia candelabra, a powerful charm. This she
carries through the town, calling out her loss and invoking
horrible curses on the thief, and as she shouts she whacks her
fetish stick, w ith another piece of wood, to arouse it to action
against the robber.
When something valuable, such as a piece of cloth or a
180
PUNISHMENT FOR MURDER
large knife or an axe, Is lost, and the owner has a shrewd
suspicion that a certain man is the thief, he ean accuse that
man, and if the man denies the theft his accuser can demand
that he shall take the ordeal and thus definitely settle the
matter. To refuse to take the ordeal is an admission of guilt.
Should the test go against the accused he will have to replace
the stolen article, pay a fine, and all the expenses of the ordeal
drinking. But should the test establish his innocence, the
accuser then has to compensate the accused and pay the fees
of those who administer the ordeal. As a rule, there arc not
many accusations brought on mere suspicion ; they prefer to
discover the stolen property on the thief, or trace it back to
him through those who have received it or bought it of him.
If a slave kills a slave, the owner of the murdered slave
can demand two and even three slaves in place of the one
killed ; and he can then slay them all in revenge or retain them
as his own slaves, just as he likes. For the murder of a free
man the blood of a free man, or men, has to be shed. There is
no distinction between premeditated and accidental homicide.
Life has been taken, and it is regarded and dealt with as murder.
Drunkenness and madness are no excuse for committing
crimes.
Adultery is a personal injury, for the offender has used
something that does not belong to him without the consent of
the owner. The fine for adultery is from 100 to 300 brass rods
— from three to nine months’ ordinary wages — according to the
position of the husband and the offending party. I have
never heard of mutilation as a punishment for adultery among
the Boloki. I have seen it stated that an ear is cut off as a
punishment for this offence. I travelled constantly among
them for fifteen years, and only occasionally saw either a
part or the whole of an ear cut off, but I was always told on
inquiry that that was a punishment for repeated thefts, and
those thus mutilated were slaves. Free men were fined for
thefts and adultery, not mutilated. I have known men to be
financially ruined through having to pay fines for repeated
181
ADULTERY
acts of adultery ; but if the ear-cutting were the punishment
Uiere would not be a single man with both ears, for there is
not a morally pure one among them.
The family avenges all cases of assault on any of its members,
no matter whether it is physieal violence, abduction, rape,
adultery, theft, or anything else ; and no one has a right to
pardon the offender except the injured person or family.
Retaliation in kind, when possible, is the essence of justiee
among the natives — an eye for an eye, a eut for a cut, a bump
for a bump, and a life for a life. When retaliation is impossible,
compensation by fines is enforeed. I have seen a lad carefully
measure a cut that he might infliet one of a like size on his
enemy.
Guardians can use the women left to their wards as their own
wives, and may trade with their ward’s goods without paying
any interest ; but when the ward reaches his majority he can
demand the right number of women from his guardian, and
the exact amount of goods left in his charge. If the guardian
dies in the meantime, then his heir will take the privileges
and obligations of the guardianship, and reserve out of his
inherited estate the amount due to the ward. Uncles and heads
of families will act as guardians for minors left with property,
and they will have to render a proper account of the amount
received when the minor becomes old enough to look after
his own affairs. If a minor inherits a “ palaver ” from his
father, the guardian cannot “ talk ” it, but the case has to
wait until the minor is old enough to conduct the affair himself.
I have known cases to be postponed for this reason for fifteen
and twenty years.
Some years before we went to live at Monsembe, a free man
and head of his family was accused of witchcraft. He agreed
to take the ordeal, but as all the members of his family were
absent from the town, he wished the trial to be postponed
until their return. This the accuser would not sanction, and
pressed and taunted him so that at last he took the ordeal and
died from its effects. The deceased’s family returned, and
182
THE COURT
were astonished to learn of the death of their “ head.” They
threatened to kill the accuser, as they contended that their
“ father ” had not had a fair trial, and that he had a right to
demand the postponement of the ordeal until their return.
It resulted in a big palaver being talked, and the accuser and
his family were compelled to promise fifteen slaves to the
family of the murdered man as compensation. The last of the
slaves was paid some eighteen years after the affair occurred,
and I saw him taken by my house in 1904 to be handed over
in completion of the imposed fine.
The court is generally held beneath the shade of a spreading
wild fig tree. The head-men who act as jury sit at the top
of the square ; the plaintiff, his witnesses and followers sit on
one side ; the defendant, his witnesses and followers sit on the
opposite side ; and the bottom of the square is left open for
neutrals, onlookers, and for those coming and going.
Before the proceedings begin the plaintiff and defendant
Avill each take their party of followers on one side, but in
different parts of the town, and state tersely their case to
them, and then distribute from 200 to 600 brass rods among
them according to the importance of the case. It is their
duty to clap their hands and applaud every point made by the
one who hires them, and to laugh ironically at the arguments
of the other side. These follow'ers will be gathered from any of
the men belonging to the neighbouring towns who happen to
be drawn together to hear a “ big palaver ” and pick up a few
brass rods. They are in honour bound to applaud their own
side, and to remain as long as the case lasts that day. If the
case goes into the second and third days, then “ refreshers ”
have to be given to the crowd of followers each day. Some
who have urgent business cannot attend the second day, but
there are others to take their places who were not able to be
present on the first day. I have seen from 150 to 200 followers
on each side, most of whom had no interest in the case beyond
the three or four rods they received for shouting on one side
or the other. There was a fiction that they were genuinely
183
NATIVE ADVOCATES
interested supporters of the side they took ; but I have often
been present when the rods were divided among them, and
know for a fact that the majority did not care which side won.
They always made sure of their rods before they shouted and
clapped.
If the man who has a case is not a good speaker he can engage
an advocate {ntendeko =go-hetwecn) to speak on his behalf
for a fee of from 200 to 300 brass rods a day. Such men are
natural orators, and it is a pleasure to hear them speak and
see their graceful actions.
When all is ready the parties take up their positions opposite
each other, and the plaintiff will open the proceedings by
stating his case, and calling on witnesses, if he has any, to
confirm his statements. The speaker holds in his hand a
small bunch of palm-frond leaves, and as each point is rounded
off he lays a leaflet on the ground in front of him. When he
makes a telling point against his opponent his followers clap
their hands, shout, laugh, and snap their fingers at each other,
and the wits of the party hurl quips, jokes, gibes, and proverbs
at the opposite side, and try to look as though it were im-
possible to lose such a strong case so lucidly stated. These
breaks give the speaker a breathing time in which to collect
his thoughts and gain strength for the next point. So the
speaker will go on stating point after point until there are
twelve or fifteen leaflets on the ground, all lying in the order
of his arguments. Before sitting down he will briefly state
the argument that each leaflet represents, and it is rarely that
he makes a mistake in the order, and if he does those sitting
close by will instantly correct him.
If not too late in the day the defendant states his case,
combating his opponent’s arguments, calls his witnesses,
puts down his leaflets one by one, and rests while his followers
indulge in bantering the other side. Interruptions are fre-
quent, noisy, and often come to the verge of violence. At a
biting sarcasm, or a bitter retort, spears and knives will shake
(for all the men present are well armed), and more than once
184
NO OATHS ADMINISTERED
I have been sent for to intervene at a critieal moment and to
stop bloodshed or a general melee. Many a time has an old
chief come to my door and said : “ White man, they are fight-
ing ; come and stop them.” And my wife has often thought
I was badly wounded in the scuffle, for in pushing my way
among them the red camwood powder would be transferred
from their bodies to my coat, and would show up like blood
on my white garment.
The jury of head-men, after the defendant has finished,
withdraw to go over the evidence pro and con, and to con-
sider their verdict ; and on their return a couple of men with
fine w'ood-ashes, or pow'dered camwood on leaves, take up
positions — one near the plaintiff and the other near the
defendant. The appointed chief judge wfill sum up the case
and give the verdict, say, in favour of the defendant, and
instantly the man sitting near him w'ill rub, w'ith more vigour
than gentleness, the wood-ashes or camwood powder over the
face of the winner as a sign to all that he is acquitted of the
charge brought against him. He will leave the mess on his
face for days as a proof, to all and sundry, of his acquittal.
The loser of the case refunds the winner all his expenses, pays
the judge and jury of chiefs, and is a poorer if not sadder and
wiser man.
There appears to be no cross-examination of witnesses, no
guarantee of truthfulness, and no punishment for perjury.
Each side starts away in the far-distant past, and drags in as
much irrelevant matter as possible, and thus fogs, confuses and
entangles the case to the best of his abilities. The ordeal is
at times resorted to in order to decide involved cases, and from
the results of the ordeal there is no appeal. Sometimes, after
one or two days’ hearing, the jury is not able (or is afraid) to
decide a case satisfactorily in favour of either side, and then it
is dismissed — each side bearing its own expenses.
There is nothing resembling an oath administered to wit-
nesses, and there are no modes of punishing perjury, hence
witnesses are seldom called upon to give evidence in a case,
185
VARIOUS ORDEALS
and when they are put forward no one on the opposite side
and no judge accepts their statements as true. In ordinary
cases the judge and jury of head-men decide the case on their
own kirowledge of the affair (and the arguments of the plain-
tiffs and defendants), for they are fully in touch with all local
matters, and only local cases are laid before them. In com-
plicated palavers they resort to the ordeals, which are as
follows : (1) Nka (Lower Congo nkasa), which among the
Boloki was the outer reddish skin of the rootlet of a certain
tree carefully scraped off.
A few years ago I had the opportunity of witnessing a
rather complicated discussion and cross-accusation settled,
to the satisfaction of all the natives present, by the parties
concerned drinking, or rather eating, the ordeal. The trial
took place on neutral ground, i.e. in a section of the town
midway between the sections in which lived the parties who
were concerned. The court-house was a wide- spreading wild
fig tree that threw a shade over the whole of the gathered
crowd, which formed an oblong figure. The plaintiff stood at
one end with his supporters, the defendant at the other with
his, and the two sides were occupied by neutral spectators and
sympathizers.
The case was as follows : The plaintiff had two slaves run
away, and after some days he heard that these slaves had
escaped in a canoe belonging to the defendant, so he accused
the latter of aiding and abetting their escape, and wanted him
to pay the price of the slaves. The defendant, on the other
hand, desired the plaintiff to pay him back a canoe, or the price
of it, as he said it had been stolen by the plaintiff’s slaves.
For three hours they discussed the matter and tried to arrange
an amicable compromise ; this, however, Avas impossible, as
each Avished to get the best of the bargain. From the very
nature of the case it Avas impossible to call Avitnesses, although
many persons spoke on either side. At last it was decided
that the parties should take the ordeal {nka). Each was so
confident of the righteousness of his claims that he Avas Avilling
186
VARIOUS ORDEALS
and eager to eat his portion of the poisonous drug to support
them. The plaintiff was a short, thick-set young man troubled
with elephantiasis, and from that and his apparent nervousness
he was greatly handicapped in the trial. The defendant was
a tall, thin, wiry man about fifty years of age, who had, I
think, often taken the nka before, and was inured to it.
The ordeal drug used was the outer skin of the rootlets of a
tree that was to be found up the Lulanga River — a tributary
that enters the Congo River on the south some forty miles
below the Monsembe district. When scraped off the rootlets
it is very fluffy and of a deep scarlet colour. Two “ medicine
men ” prepared equal portions of the nka. There was about a
tablespoonful in each portion. The accused had first choice,
after which each “ medicine man ” with a portion of the nka
in the palm of his hand took up his position by the side of his
client, and at a given signal the portions of the ordeal were
simultaneously held to the mouth of the two opponents, and
at the same moment they began to chew the drug. After
chewing for a few moments each washed it down with gulps
of sugar-cane wine.
After taking the ordeal the men were not allowed to sit
down, nor to lean against anything, nor even to touch anything
with their hands. The ordeal given in the above quantity
blurs the vision, distorting and enlarging all objects, makes the
legs tremble, the head giddy, and gives a choking sensation
in the throat and chest. In fact, it gives all the symptoms of
intoxication, and a few more besides. The one who first becomes
intoxicated and falls down loses his case, and the one who
resists the effects of the drug and controls himself the longest
wins.
About five minutes after they had taken the ordeal one of
the “ medicine men ” stepped into the centre with a plantain
stalk in his hand, about 2 feet 6 inches long and from 3 to 4
inches in diameter. He flourished the stalk about a little and
then placed it in front of the plaintiff for him to step over.
The plaintiff went forward boldly, stepped over the stalk, and
187
VARIOUS ORDEALS
returned to his place. This he repeated six times without
his feet once touching the stalk. The defendant had then
to go through the same test, whieh he did laughingly, throwing
his legs and arms about in all directions. This was done
occasionally for the next thirty minutes, and by that time the
plaintiff began to show signs of intoxication. His steps faltered,
his eyes brightened and glared, and it was with difficulty that
he raised his feet over the stalk. Then the “ medicine man ”
began to moek him by pretending to put the stalk close to
his feet and tantalizingly drawing it baek. Forty minutes
after taking the nka the climax came. The “ medicine man ”
threw the stalk to the defendant, who caught it in his hands and
carried it to the centre of the crowd, where, firmly fixing his
feet on the ground, he carefully stooped forward and placed
the stalk with both hands in a straight line, then slowly raising
himself he returned to his place. The plaintiff then went to
pick up the stalk, but no sooner did he lean forw'ard than a
spasm of pain seemed to seize him, and he w'ould hav'e fallen
in a heap on the ground had not a man who for the last twenty
minutes had followed him closely caught him in his arms and
quickly carried him to his house.
No sooner did the crowd of neutrals see the fall of one of the
opponents than with a bound they jumped to their feet, and
with spears and knives raised in the air they danced, shouted,
and sang around the wdnner. Some rubbed dirt, others ashes,
and others red camwood powder on the fellow’s face — a sign
that he had won the case. They hoisted him on the back of a
friend and accompanied him to his hut, and there he distributed
400 brass rods among the throng of his admirers who sw'ore
they had helped him to w'in his cause. He sat outside his
house all the rest of the day with his face smeared, so that all
could see that he had won, and could congratulate him. The
plaintiff had to pay him tw'o slaves and a canoe as damages.
The next day both the 2daintiff and the defendant were
walking about the town, and seemed none the worse for
sw'allowing so powerful and dangerous a drug. They ap-
188
VARIOUS ORDEALS
parently had no enmity towards each other, but chatted freely
and laughingly over the events of the previous day.i
When one remembers the amount of corruption and bribery
among these people — that the most familiar words on their
lips are “ lie ” and “ liar,” and the most frequent question is,
“ Is it true ? ” and the answer, “ It is true, or cut my throat ”
— the wonder is that they can settle a palaver in any way.
To drink the ordeal and be either right or wrong according
to its action settles the affair once for all, ends all possible
deadly feuds and bloodshed, and saves many a man from what
is worse than death, viz, an ever-present, anxious fear of
what his enemy or enemies will do to him. If a man accuses
another of giving him a disease, or of causing the death of his
wife by witchcraft, how can the accused disprove such a charge ?
Not by talking, no matter how much he may swear that he is
innocent. If he calls the head-men together, he knows the
verdict will be given in favour of the one who pays the most ;
if he runs away he will soon be captured by some other town
and probably sold to furnish a cannibal feast ; if he runs to a
friendly town he will lose caste, he will be treated with con-
tempt as a coward, and his life rendered miserable. So he
boldly steps forth and takes the ordeal and the affair is settled.
Is the ordeal in his favour ? Then he claims and receives
heavy damages. Does the ordeal go against him ? Then he
pays the damages, if wealthy enough, or, if poor, he sells
himself, or if he is already a slave then his master pays for him ;
but whatever be the result, that palaver is decided once for
all. No stigma attaches to the man who is proved guilty by
the ordeal, for “ one can have witchcraft without knowing it.”
Moreover, no one lightly brings a charge of witchcraft against
another, for, if the ordeal test goes against the accuser, the
damages for compensation are so very heavy as to deter
frivolous accusations.
* On the Lower Congo the ordeal is given only to the accused, and if he
does not vomit it, then it is fatal, and the man falling is beaten and stabbed
to death as guilty of witchcraft.
189
VARIOUS ORDEALS
The administration of the nka is reserved for very compli-
cated civil cases and for serious charges of witchcraft ; but
there are other ordeals used for minor charges of witchcraft
and for various other offences. They are as follows :
Epomi and mokungu are both trees. The juice from the bark
of these trees is pressed out and dropped into the eye of the
accused, and if the sight is destroyed the accused is guilty.
The epomi juice is more powerful than the mokungu. The
nka and epomi are for witchcraft and serious charges of theft
and adultery, but the mokungu is used only in the more trivial
charges. In each case the accused can refuse to submit to the
ordeal unless the accuser takes it with him, hence the juices
of these trees are rarely employed. When a “ medicine man ”
charges a person with being a witch, the accused cannot
demand that the “medicine man” shall take the ordeal with him.
Another test is as follows : Three boys are accused of
thieving, which charge they indignantly repudiate ; three young
plantains are then cut — one to represent each boy — and the
juice of the 'mokungu bark is pressed into the centre of each
plantain stump left in the ground. Now it is usual that when
a plantain is cut it will, in a few hours, send up from its centre
the beginnings of a fresh growth ; but if one of the three
plantain stumps does not begin to sprout afresh by the next
morning, the lad represented by that plantain is the guilty
one ; if two do not sprout, then there are two thieves, and if
none sprout, then all the three lads are regarded as guilty.
On the other hand, if all three sprout as usual, then the lads
are proved to be innocent of the accusation. The mokungu
juice destroys the eye, so in mercy the “ eyes ” of the plantain
are used as substitutes for the eyes of the lads, and it is probable
that the juice when well pressed in retards for a short time
the sprouting of the plantain.
Lingola is a word denoting the giving of the ordeal to a
medium (moyengwa), and after a certain time, when the ordeal
begins to work, the name of a man who is supposed to be the
witch is called out, and if the medium stumbles over the plantain
190
Photo by\
White Ants’ Nest
C. y. Codds
White ants are a constant menace to the woodwork in houses, to stores, and to books.
At one of our stations sufficient clay was procured from a white ants' nest to make 250,000
Ibricks. It is splendid material for that purpose.
AN IMPARTIAL JUDGE NEEDED
stalk put in his path while this name is “ on the card ” the owner
of the name is regarded as guilty ; but if the medium does not
stumble the man is innocent, and another name is called, and
the process is repeated until the witch is found or the effects
of the drug have passed away from the medium.
Mai ma mungunga = water of the bell. This is used by the
“ medicine man of the bell.” A person is very ill and charges
some members of his family with bewitching him. They deny
the accusation, and he thereupon challenges them to drink
water that has been dipped up in the “ medicine man’s ” bell,
which will not hurt them if they are innocent, but will kill
them if they are guilty of the charge. Anyone who refuses to
drink from the bell is regarded as guilty. What constitutes
guilt in such cases ? Simply a strong desire that a person
might die ; and how often in their uncontrollable anger have
they wished for one another’s death ; hence occasionally an
over-sensitive person will refuse to drink out of the bell for
fear of the consequences.
By frequently drinking the ordeal drug one becomes immune
from its effects, and I have noticed that old people who have
taken it many times never feel intoxicated by it ; but young
people, who were not used to it, fell quickly from its narcotic
effects on their system. I have no doubt that the administrators
of the various ordeals were open to bribery and other influences,
and could, and would, dilute the ordeal for one in whom they
were interested.
The natives were dissatisfied with the way their “ palavers ”
were settled. Their cost, the long time it took to talk them, and
the unfair favouritism of the head-men made them wish for
some better mode of dealing with their affairs. About 1897
and 1898 they frequently asked me to act as judge, as they felt
that I should be absolutely impartial in my verdicts, but I
objected to do so, because I had no power to compel a man to
appear before me ; and, again, I had no soldiers to enforce
any verdict I might give, and thus I should waste my time
in listening and trying to settle their palavers.
191
WHITE MAN AS JUDGE
After some time it was arranged that the two persons
wishing me to arbitrate on their case should each bring me a
fowl as a token that they desired me to settle their dispute,
and were willing to abide by my decision. This giving of a
fowl weeded out the trivial cases that would have wasted my
time, and yet was not prohibitive, for whereas a fowl cost
only from 10 to 20 brass rods each, the payments under the
old method ran into 500 rods or more. Moreover, I gave them
to understand that directly I heard that a verdict had been
defied, not another case would I judge until the said verdict
had been honoured. I must in all fairness say that although I
judged many scores of cases not a single verdict was disregarded.
The court-house was the verandah of my house, about 8
feet wide and 50 feet long. Neither knives nor spears were
allowed on it or near it. I generally sat on a chair in the middle
of the verandah — on either side were the opposing factions,
and many onlookers were on the ground below. There was
generally sitting near by a man with some wood-ashes or red
camwood powder in a leaf, ready to rub it on the face of the
winner.
Only one was allowed to speak at a time, and the talking
was confined to the points at issue. A few questions well put
would often throw such a light on the matter under considera-
tion that the plaintiff himself would feel that his claim was
preposterous. As a result of this plan very few cases took more
than half an hour. When cases were talked in the town
everybody was permitted to speak, and often they spoke all
together. A thousand extraneous things were dragged in to
the hiding and confusing of the real point, and sometimes they
would be all day over a very small matter, and then not settle
it. I have known them to fight over the irritating gibes they
threw at each other, and I often had to separate the combatants
— a little stern authority and a few jokes have quieted them
down ; but it was much easier and better to act as arbitrator
and settle the palaver than to have frequent quarrels and
rows.
192
A SELECTION OF CASES
I kept a record of many cases, and I herewith transcribe a
few for the benefit of my readers, as they throw considerable
light on the native life and mode of thought.
Case I. The plaintiff said that many years ago his brother
was very ill, and went to the defendant’s father’s town for
medicine. When he was dying the sick man took a long flat pod
and struck his friend, the “ medicine man,” across the ankle.
For this the “ doctor ” demanded from the family of his deceased
patient a slave, three pots of sugar-cane wine, two spears,
and some brass rods. The plaintiff paid the goods at the time,
but now he wished to have them returned on the ground that :
(1) No medicine swa made and given to his brother, i.e. the
patient died before he could be treated ; and (2) That since
white people had come he could see that it was stupid to follow
such customs.
The defendant acknowledged the debt on behalf of his
father (the “doctor”), who was dead. He admitted that the
above statement was correct, and that the custom was quite
general in this part of Congo, and was recognized by all.
It seemed to be one way of making a codicil to a will, or a mode
of leaving property to an outsider who legally did not inherit
anything, but who, on account of his technical assault, had a
legal claim for compensation to be paid out of the deceased’s
estate.
I told them that I could not interfere with palavers that
had happened so long ago ; but in future when a man was
dying and wanted to leave an outsider any of his property, he
was to call some of his family and direct them to give So-and-so
certain goods after his death. Only such a bequest would be
recognized. Their own custom was a good one, viz. : A token
was given in the presence of witnesses, and the article or articles
named. The eldest son was then informed of the token, the
person to whom it was given, and the nature of the goods
bequeathed. After the testator’s death the token Avas taken
to the eldest son, and the property handed over in the presence
of witnesses.
N
193
A SELECTION OF CASES
Case II. A man of about 45 years of age eomplained that
a young fellow, then present, had a woman belonging to him
and would not give her up. By a series of questions the follow-
ing faets were elicited : The plaintiff’s mother was living in a
bush town ; goods were being continually stolen from her
house, until at last she went and consulted a “ witch-doctor ”
who resided in a river-side town. She desired to take the
ordeal {nka) to discover whether she had unwittingly stolen and
hidden her own property, or someone else had been the thief.
When the “ witch-doctor ” was about to administer the
nlca the woman was dissuaded by her friends from taking it.
The “ witch-doctor ” thereupon went to the woman’s husband
and demanded a slave on the ground that he had prepared the
ordeal which the wife had not taken, and by her refusal to
take it she was bringing contempt on his fetish. The husband
acknowledged the justice of the claim and paid a female slave
as compensation. The plaintiff now wanted that slave or
another returned.
The defendant admitted the facts as stated, but said it all
happened long before he was born. The plaintiff said it took
place before they had ever heard of white people, and when he
was a little boy (or about 1868). I dismissed the case with
costs — one fowl from each party.
Case III. Lokangi was a lad of about 14 years. He went one
day in a canoe with some young men to take the monthly tax
to Diboko (Nouvclles Anvers). While on the way a crocodile
attacked the canoe, which was upset, and the whole party of
six ]3addlcrs was thrown into the river. The crocodile caught
Lokangi, and he was seen no more.
Lokangi’s family, the plaintiffs in this case, accused the
leader of the canoe party of bewitching the crocodile to take
Lokangi and leave all the others ; they argued that he must
have bewitched the crocodile to do so, for why were none of
tlie others seized ? The defendant admitted that Lokangi had
been killed in the manner stated, but strenuously denied having
bewitched the beast to take the lad.
194
A SELECTION OF CASES
I went carefully and patiently into the whole palaver of
sueh superstitions, and at the close gave the verdiet in favour
of the defendant.
Case IV. Plaintiff said the defendant owed him one woman,
some spears, and 3000 brass rods. The defendant denied the
debt. On examination it was proved that the defendant’s
father owed the above-stated amount to the plaintiff, but the
father was dead, and the defendant (an only son) had inherited
his father’s goods.
I laid it down as a principle that the inheritor should pay
the debts owing by the person whose estate he inherited, and
if the amount of the debts exceeded the sum inherited he should
not be responsible for the whole of the debts, but should divide
the property reeeived among the creditors ; but if the property
exceeded the debts, he should pay the debts and keep the
surplus for himself. The case was thus settled, in favour of
the plaintiff, to everybody’s satisfaetion.
Case V. Plaintiff said he owed the defendant 1000 brass
rods, but as he did not pay up quiekly the defendant lay in
wait and caught his two wives who had gone together to fish
among the islands ; that by right of custom he should have
taken only one and let the other go.
Defendant admitted the statement made as correet, but
said that he had gone so often to the plaintiff’s town to colleet
his debt, and had been put off with sueh unreasonable exeuses,
that he was angry and took the two women instead of one.
I pointed out : (1) That the priee of a woman was 2500
rods, but the debt was only 1000, and the expenses (fees to
the men who helped him) only 500, making in all 1500, and the
value of one woman more than covered this amount. (2) In
tying up two women he had greatly exceeded the debt, and
had thus put himself in the wrong.
Verdict for the plaintiff. One woman to be returned at once,
and the other to be delivered up on payment by the plaintiff
of 1300 rods ; the defendant to lose thus 200 rods for tying
up two women when one well covered the debt and expenses.
195
A SELECTION OF CASES
Case VI. Motuli, the plaintiff, said he owed the defendant
a woman, and in payment of the debt he handed over a woman
large with child, of which he, Motuli, was the father. The child
was now two years old, and he wanted the ehild to be handed
over to him.
The defendant allowed that all the above was true, but said
that as the child was born after the woman came into his
possession, the child was his.
I pointed out to Motuli : (1) That he was wrong to give his
wife, by whom he was expecting a child, in payment of a debt.
(2) He should have made an agreement at the time with
his creditor respecting the ownership of the child. (3) That
if the woman had died in child-birth he would have refused to
pay another in her place, so as the creditor took her and the
risks with her the child should remain with its mother. Motuli
thus lost the case and was very angry.
Case VII. Bodia, the plaintiff, said he bought a wife of the
defendant and had one child by her, which was now three years
old ; that when his wife had a second child she died in delivery,
and now the mother and second child were dead. He wanted
cither the money returned, or that the defendant should pay
him another woman.
Defendant admitted that all the statements were true, but
said that Bodia had had the woman a long time and he could
not see that he was responsible for her death.
I explained to Bodia : (1) That every woman who had a
child had it at some risk to her life. (2) That he had owned
the woman for four years, and she had farmed, cooked, and borne
him one child ; and as he had brought her into the position
that caused her death, he himself must accept the loss. (3)
His first child was properly born and grown up healthy, so
there was no malformation of the womb. Verdict for the
defendant.
196
CHAPTER XIV
MYTHOLOGY AND FOLK LORE
Ideas concerning rebirth— Ideas concerning white men — A hippopotamus
spirit — A prediction — Reticence of natives — Recited round the fire —
The origin of man — The sun — A deluge — The destruction of the world —
Fifteen folk-lore stories.
HERE were misty ideas, but no definite belief, con-
cerning the rebirth of their deceased ancestors. A
few years before Stanley descended the Congo there
was a gen»ral belief extant among the Boloki that many of
their ancestors would appear in another form, and yet would
be recognizable by similarity of features to those whose appear-
ances the spirits took. When the white men arrived this belief
seemed to be confirmed by the fact that the natives often
thought they saw a likeness in the features, walk, or gestures
of some of the white men to dead men whom they knew. I
myself have often been surprised and amused when a motion,
a glance, or some little peculiarity among these folk has called
vividly to mind some person I knew at home. There was one
man I never met without having a certain uncle of mine re-
called to mind, and another person— a girl — always by an
indescribable something reminded me of a girl I knew in
England.
When we came here in 1890 my colleague was thought to
resemble a chief who had died some time before, and I was
thought to be like another deceased chief belonging to a family
that had a hippopotamus for its omen (not totem, that is
another word) ; and this view was confirmed by my firing on
197
A PREDICTION
two successive nights at a hippopotamus that came prowling
about our beach, for the animal sent me a message. i
We found a prediction extant that white men would come,
and some of them would be like chiefs who had died ; but
this slight suspieion of a belief in reincarnation may, I think,
be accounted for by rumours of the white men having filtered
through from the coasts. The Boloki thirty-five years ago
were a strong, war-loving people who travelled far and wide
on the river ; and slaves were bought and exchanged from
widely different parts, and, of course, carried with them the
news and rumours, true and false, of their last residences.
This factor in the disseminating of religious belief, and the
interweaving of those beliefs into what is often a patchwork
system of belief, has not always been properly allowed for
in dealing with the superstitions of African races.
Soon after we opened our station in August, 1890, I tried
to procure some native stories from the boys, but failed in
every attempt. I felt sure, however, that they had folk tales,
and therefore persevered, though nearly two years passed
before I was successful. One evening, in the early months of
1892, some boys sat on the floor of my house talking while I
was busy writing. After a time I noticed that one was talking
and the others listening intently. I made a mental note of
the circumstance, and the next day I asked the lad to write
out on a slate (for in the meantime we had taught them to read
and write) the palaver he had told the boys on the previous
evening. He did so, and I found it was a native story, I gave
him a few brass rods, asked him to write some more, which he
did ; and in a short time I had four or five boys writing stories
on my verandah, and very often one boy who knew a story,
but could not write, sat and told it to one who could, and then
shared the spoil. We have between sixty and seventy native
stories, and most of them were handed down by one chief who,
although he died long before we came here, was spoken of to
us with respect on account of his wide knowledge of the ancient
* See Chapter XIX, p. 266, for full details.
198
RECITED ROUND THE EIRE
myths I and customs. Most of the stories we printed in a book
and used it as a reading-book in the classes. There were many
stories about men, women, and animals, and to each story a
moral was attached.
The stories were told on moonless nights around the village
fires when it was too dark to danee and play, or around the
camp fires when travelling and fishing. The stories relate
the cunning way in which some animals outwit others —
generally the smaller ones outwitting the larger and more
cumbersome ; that the biter is himself bit, and the bully over-
whelmed with ridicule. Many of the stories try to account
for the peculiarities observed in nature, as why birds build
nests in certain ways, or have no nests at all ; the enmity
among the various animals ; the presence of dogs and fowls
in the towns ; the cause of death and the origin of fire. Some
stories would well illustrate the text : “ Be sure your sin will
find you out ” ; while others are absurdly comic, and many
of them dirty.
A line from some of the stories was often used as a proverb,
or to call up the situation described in the story as a warning
to a person not to overreach another, or he himself may fall.
No European elements were to be found in them, as they were
procured before we could talk freely with the natives, and
certainly before our teaehing had in any way influenced their
thoughts and modes of expression.
Many of the stories were reeited for amusement, but most
of them were told as true, even the amusing ones ; and they
undoubtedly embody the wit, wisdom, and philosophy of life.
Some are only remarkable for the way in whieh they account
for the present state of affairs in the physical and moral worlds ;
others give a clear insight into the mind of the native, and his
view of the spirit-world ; and these stories were at times
’ In the chapter on Religious Beliefs will be found some information on
their ideas of a Supreme Being ; and in Chapter XIX, on spirits and mythi-
cal monsters that inhabit the islands and forests.
199
FOLK-LORE STORIES
narrated in their “ palavers ” to enforce a point and drive
home a moral.
I did not meet, among the Boloki, with any stories or legends
regarding the origin of man, of the sun, of a deluge, or of the
destruction of the world. There were stories of folk with tails,
but not of animal ancestors ; of dwarfs and frightful monstrosi-
ties— all heads and no body — but not of giants. When the
end of a rainbow touches a town a death is sure to occur there,
and the bright red after-glow occasionally seen at sunset
indicates the death of a chief. I have already given the legend
about the moon having once been a python.
The following are a few typical stories,^ and in translating
them I have kept as near the original as possible. No ideas
have been added, and no plot has been altered, but the trans-
lator has tried to give in easy English a true representation
of the stories.
It must be remembered that the morals appended to the
stories were put there by the natives when they wrote them
down for me ; and when I was sitting with them around their
fires and hearing them relate the stories I noticed that the
moral was always given, and frequently formed the subject
of comment, and of angry curses being called down on the one
who was credited with starting such bad customs.
Story I
The Adventures of Libanza ; or, a Boloki version of
J ack and the Beanstalk
Libanza and his sister, Nsongo, started on their travels in
the long ago, and as they journeyed Libanza changed himself
into a boy covered with yaws. A man out hunting turned
aside from his party of hunters, and meeting Libanza and his
sister, he exclaimed ; “I have found some slaves ! ” He
* The stories given are of course Boloki stories ; but the writer has pub-
lished some forty Lower Congo stories in Congo Life and Folk Lore, R.T.S.
5s. net.
200
I
I
Photo t>y] ^ y
Boloki Boys with Wine Jar
This well illustrates the methods of wearing a cloth by the male folk. Either a string is tied round the wa'st and ihe cloth hung— back and
front— oyer it, or the corners are tied at the side. The wine jar has a capacity of several gallons. There are not more than two or three in a
large village ; but they are freely lent.
FOLK-LORE STORIES
thereupon took possession of them and led them to the hunting
camp.
Their new master and the other hunters were there for the
purpose of snaring monkeys, and although their master caught
some, yet he was not very successful. So one day Libanza
said to him : “ Give me the snares, and let me try to catch
some monkeys.”
But as he appeared to be such a poor, weak boy covered
with yaws, the master laughed at him, and twitted him with
his smallness. However, on being repeatedly asked, the master
gave the boy the snares, and he caught thirty monkeys in a
very little time, and brought them back to the camp to be
divided among the hunters.
While the hunters were busy dividing the monkeys, Libanza
and his sister took some meat and ran away. After journeying
for a long distance they came near to a large town, and again
Libanza turned himself into a boy covered with yaws.
The people of the town Avere pounding sugar-canes for
making sugar-cane wine ; but a man seeing them claimed
them as his slaves, and brought them and sat them on the end
of the large wooden mortar in which the other men were
pounding up the canes.
After a time Libanza said: “ Give me a pestle,^ so that I
may crush the canes.” But the people laughed that so small
a lad should make sueh a request.
However, after he had repeatedly asked, they gave him a
pestle, and Libanza used it with such vigour that it snapped
in two. They brought him two others, and taking one in each
hand he pounded so strongly that they also broke ; and thus
he broke all they had in the town except the last one, and with
that he ran away, and the people feared to follow him.
As they travelled, Nsongo caught sight of a person in the
distance and wanted to marry him ; but on being called the
person would not come to her. So Libanza changed himself,
* The pestles for crushing sugar-canes are like heavy clubs, made of hard
wood, and weigh from 20 lbs. to 30 lbs. e^ch.
201 '
FOLK-LORE STORIES
first into a shell and then into a saucepan, and followed the
man ; but in these disguises Libanza was not able to catch
the man for his sister because he ran away filled with fear.
Libanza then turned himself into the handle of an axe, and
when the man came to pick up the handle, Libanza caught
him and led him to his sister. Now this person had only one
leg and simple stumps for fingers ; and Nsongo, on a closer
view observing these deformities, refused to have him for a
husband.
Libanza and his sister, Nsongo, resumed their wanderings,
and on passing a palm tree Nsongo saw a bunch of ripe palm
nuts, and she implored her brother to ascend the tree and cut
down the nuts. Libanza climbed the palm tree, and as he
ascended it the palm tree grew higher and higher and higher,
until the top was hid in the heavens, ^ and there Libanza
alighted, leaving his sister down below on the earth.
When Nsongo was left on the earth she heard a rumbling
noise, which she thought was her brother, Libanza, scolding
up above. She called a “ wizard,” and asked him how she
could rejoin her brother.
The “ wizard ” said : “ You must call a Hawk, and tell him
you want to send a packet to your brother, Libanza ; and then
tie yourself up into a packet and put yourself on the roof of a
house, and when the Hawk sees it he will say, ‘ That is surely
the parcel I am to take,’ and the Hawk will carry you up
above.”
Nsongo did as she was told by the “ wizard,” and the Hawk
saw the bundle and picked it up ; but twice on the way the
Hawk rested and tried to open the parcel, and would have
done so, but at each attempt he heard a deep sigh proceed
from the interior of the bundle, and desisted.
At last the Hawk reached the place where Libanza was, and
said to him, “ Here is a packet which your sister has sent to
1 The word used here is 6oZo6o = the upper regions, of which place they
had very hazy ideas. About the lower regions — longa — they always spoke
more definitely, and would describe what took place there.
202
FOLK-LORE STORIES
you.” Now when Libanza essayed to undo the parcel, out came
his sister.
Libanza became a blacksmith, and there was in that country
a person whose name was Ngombe, and because he swallowed
people every day he was also called Emele Ngombe (Ngombe
the Swallower).
When Libanza heard about this Swallower of people, he
called his bellows blower, Nkumba (Tortoise), and they heated
an ingot of iron. Now as the Swallower was passing the
smithy he made the sound “ Kililili,” and Libanza mocked
him by saying, “ Alalalala.” Ngombe the Swallower then
asked : “ Who dares to ridicule me ? ” And again he mur-
mured, “ Kililili.” And Libanza answered him by saying :
“ Ngalalala,^ I am anjaka-njaka lokwala la lotungi, Libanza,
the brother of Nsongo.”
The Swallower went at Libanza with his mouth wide-
stretched to gulp him down, and as he went his lower jaw
dragged along the ground. Libanza stirred the molten metal,
the Tortoise blew the bellows, and as the Swallower rushed
forward with his mouth wide open Libanza threw the liquid
metal right into the gaping jaws, and the Swallower of people
fell dead.
There are several folk-lore stories that have crystallized
for us their ideas concerning Libanza, and it is interesting to
note that such stories are called Mabanza (plural form of
Libanza), and these contain a statement of some of the doings
of Libanza, whereas their word for fable, parable, story is
mokulu. The common opinion was that Libanza lived on the
earth, and was the first to go into heaven. His origin, life,
and adventures as told in their folk stories are briefly as
follows :
Libanza’s mother (names of father and mother were never
given) gave birth first to elephants, the various kinds of bush
* This is the full name of Libanza. It means : The one who makes things
with force and noise and runs off with them, whose scraped finger-nails are
tied with cane, he who is Libanza the brother of Nsongo.
203
FOLK-LORE STORIES
animals, the different varieties of flies and insects, and to the
amphibia ; then his mother told him to come out, but before
Libanza would do so he ordered his mother to scrape her
finger-nails ; when she had done this he threw out spears,
shield, a chair covered with brass nails, and finally came out
himself.
Libanza’s father, according to another folk story, was trapped
and killed while stealing some nsafu fruit for his wife. And
he acquainted his wife of his death by causing a fetish horn
he had left with her to overflow with blood. As soon as Libanza
was born he inquired about his father and the manner of his
death, and set himself to punish the one who had killed him,
which after a series of futile attempts he finally accomplished
by slaying the murderer of his father. Then comes the story
of his own adventures, which reach their climax in the de-
struction of the Swallower of people.
It is not at all improbable that Libanza is the name of some
great chief who by his resource and courage delivered the
people from great peril and oppression, and around whose
name have gathered many myths, and to him is ascribed
great magical power. In the original story much magic is
performed to meet the various difficulties that arise, as changing
himself into different shapes, making horns and saucepans
move and speak, and resurrecting broken and dead animals.
No moral qualities were ascribed to Libanza, but he was
regarded as being very strong, and rich. When our steamer,
the Peace, made her first journey up-river, the Boloki of
Monsembe told me that they thought it was “ Libanza going
to Singitingi (Stanley Falls) to visit his sister Nsongo.” They
could hear the noise of the engines, but as they could see no
paddles they thought that “ the river mingoli (water-spirits)
were pushing the steamer along.”
204
FOLK-LORE STORIES
Story II
The Fowl and the Hippopotamus ; or, the Cause of
the Enmity among Birds and Animals.
A Fowl, on returning from a trading journey, hid one of
his legs under his wing and said : “I sold my leg for two
thousand brass rods in the towns I have been visiting.”
A greedy hippopotamus, hearing this, said : “ If the Fowl
could reeeive two thousand brass rods for his small leg, how
much shall I receive for mine ? ” So calling some of his friends
they entered a canoe and paddled down-river to the towns.
On arriving, the leg of the Hippopotamus was cut off, carried
ashore, and sold for a large number of brass rods.
When the Hippopotami returned to the canoe, after selling
the leg, they diseovered that their friend had bled to death,
so they pieked up their paddles in great anger and returned
to their town.
On arriving at their town they sought out the Fowl and
charged him with the death of their friend, for they said,
“ Because of your lying deception he went and sold his leg.”
In their anger they called on the Hawks and Kites to swoop
down and carry off the chickens belonging to the Fowls ; and
they told the wild bush-cat that whenever he found the door
of the Fowl-house open he was to creep in and kill the Fowls.
In this way so many Fowls were killed, that in defence the
Fowls called on the Crocodiles to bite the Hippopotami and
wound them to death ; and they asked Man whenever he saw
a Hippopotamus to hurl his spear at it and kill it. Thus,
through the Fowl’s one deception, enmity, quarrels, and death
were first introduced among the birds and animals.
Story HI
The Punishment of the Inquisitive Man
Motu made a large garden, and planted it with many bananas
and plantain. The garden was in a good position, so the fruit
205
FOLK-LORE STORIES
ripened quickly and well. Arriving one day at his garden he
found the ripe bunches of bananas and plantain had been
cut off and carried away.
After that he did not go once to his garden without finding
that some of the fruit had been stolen, so at last he made up
his mind to watch the place carefully, and hiding himself he
lay in ambush for the thief.
Motu had not been in hiding very long before he saw a
number of Cloud-folk descending, who cut down his bananas,
and what they could not eat they tied into bundles to carry
away. Motu rushed out, and, chasing them, caught one woman
whom he took to his house, and after a short time he married
her, and gave her a name which meant Favourite.
Although Favourite had come from the Cloud-land she
was very intelligent, and went about her housework and
farming just like an ordinary woman of the earth. Up to that
time neither Motu nor the people of his village had ever seen
a fire. They had always eaten their food raw, and on cold,
windy, rainy days had sat shivering in their houses because
they did not know anything about fire and warmth.
Favourite, however, told some of the Cloud-folk to bring
some fire with them next time they came to visit her, which
they did. And then she taught the people how to cook food,
and how to sit round a fire on cold days.
Motu was very happy with his wife, and the villagers were
very glad to have her among them, and, moreover. Favourite
persuaded many of the Cloud-folk to settle in her husband’s
village.
One day Favourite received a covered basket, and putting
it on a shelf in the house she said to her husband, “ We are now
living with much friendship together ; but while I am away
at the farm you must not open that basket, if you do we
shall all leave you.”
“ All right,” replied the husband, “ I will never undo it.”
Motu was now very glad in his heart, for he had plenty of
people, a clever wife, and the villagers treated him as a great
206
FOLK-LORE STORIES
man. But he had one trouble : Why did his wife warn him
every day not to open the basket ? What was in that basket ?
What was she hiding from him ? And foolish-like he decided
to open it. Waiting therefore until his wife had gone as usual
to the farm he opened the basket, and — there was nothing in
it, so laughingly he shut it up and put it in its place.
By and by Favourite returned, and, looking at her husband,
she asked him : “ Why did you open that basket ? ” And he
was speechless at her question.
On the first opportunity, while Motu was away hunting.
Favourite gathered her people, and ascended with them to
Cloud-land, and never again returned to the earth.
That is how the earth-folk received their fire and a know-
ledge of cooking ; and that is also how Motu through being too
inquisitive lost his wife, his people, and his importance as a
big man in the village.
Story IV
Mhungi and his Punishment
Mbungi one day said to his \vife : “ Dig up some cassava,
prepare it, and cut down some plantain, for we will go hunting
and fishing.”
The wife did as she was told, and in a short time everything
was ready for the journey. They put their goods into a canoe
and paddled away to their hunting and fishing camp.
After resting, the man went and dug a hole and set his
traps ; and the next morning he found an antelope and a
bush-pig in the hole. These he took to the camp, cut up, and
gave to his wife to cook. By and by when all was cooked she
brought the meat to her husband, and as she was taking her
portion he said : “ Wait, I will ask the forest-folk (or spirits)
if you may eat it.”
He went and pretended to ask the forest-folk, and brought
back a message that if she ate the meat the traps would lose
their luck and catch no more animals. In this way the selfish
207
FOLK-LORE STORIES
husband had all the meat for himself and his wife went hungry. *
Mbungi found many animals in his traps, and the woman,
because of the prohibition, did not have her share of them.
One day the woman made some fish-traps and set them, and
on her return to the camp the husband wanted to know where
she had been, but she refused to tell him. Next day she went
to look at her traps and found many fish in them, which she
brought to the camp and cooked. Mbungi, however, returned
unsuccessful from his traps ; but when he saw his wife’s fish
he laughed and said : “ Bring the fish here for me to eat.”
“ Wait,” answered the woman, “ I will ask the forest-folk
if you may eat the fish.” And she brought back a reply that
he was not to eat the fish, for if he did so the fish-traps would
lose their luck.
It was now Mbungi’s turn to be hungry. Days and da)'^s
passed and he caught no more animals ; but his mfe always
had plenty of fish. He became very thin and angry. One
day he drew his large knife, and cutting off the head of his
wife he buried the head and the trunk together in the ground,
and departed for his town.
Mbungi had not gone very far on his way when he heard a
voice shouting : “ Mbungi, wait for me, we will go together ! ”
He wondered who was calling him, so he hid himself, and in a
little time he saw the head of his wife coming along the road
calling after him.
He went, and catehing the head he cut it into small pieces
and buried it again ; but before he had gone far he heard it
shouting : “ Mbungi, wait for me, we will go together ! ” He
cut and buried it again and again, but it was no use, it con-
tinued to follow and call after him.
Mbungi reaehed his town, and his wife’s family asked him :
“ Where is your wife ? ” “ Oh, she is coming on behind,” he
replied. They accused him of killing her, but this he strongly
denied. While he was denying the charge of murder the head
' A person considered he had not made a meal if he had no meat or fish
to eat with his cassava.
208
FOLK-LORE STORIES
came right into the town ; and when the family saw it they
immediately tied up Mbungi and killed him.
This was how murder was first introduced into the world.
Story V
Why the Fowl and Dog are abused by the Birds
There was a time when all the birds and animals lived in the
sky. One day it was very rainy and cold — so cold that they
were all shivering. The birds said to the Dog : “ Go down and
fetch us some fire to warm ourselves.”
The Dog descended, but seeing plenty of bones and pieces
of fish lying about on the ground he forgot to take the fire to
the shivering birds.
The birds and animals waited, and the Dog not returning
they sent the Fowl to hasten him with the fire.
The Fowl, however, on arriving below, beheld plenty of
palm nuts, pea nuts, maize, and other good things, so he did
not tell the Dog to take up the fire, and did not take any himself.
This is the reason why you can hear of an evening a bird
that sings with notes like this, “ Nsusu akende bombo ! nsusu
akende bombo ! ” which means. The Fowl has become a slave !
the Fowl has become a slave !
And the Heron sometimes sits on a tree near a village and
cries, “ Mbwa owa ! mbwa owa ! ”=Dog, you die ! dog, you die ! i
This is why you hear these birds jeer at and abuse the
Fowl and Dog, because they left their friends to shiver in the
cold while they enjoyed themselves in warmth and plenty.
Story VI
The Eagle leaves the Tortoise in the lurch
A Leopard had three young children, and she asked the
Tortoise to take care of them while she was away hunting.
^ I have often heard these birds, and their notes quickly suggested the
phrases quoted above, and undoubtedly gave rise to the story.
0 209
FOLK-LORE STORIES
“ Very well,” said the Tortoise, “ I will nurse them for you.”
So the Leopard went hunting, and after a time she returned
with some meat which she wished to give to her children.
“No, no, do not open the door,” whispered the Tortoise,
“ your children are asleep. Throw the meat in at the window.”
The meat was passed through the window, and the Leopard
went off hunting again.
While the Leopard was gone the second time, an Eagle came
to the Tortoise and said : “Friend Tortoise, let us make blood-
brotherhood.”
The Tortoise agreed, and the friendship was properly made.
After a short time the Eagle asked the Tortoise for one of the
children to eat, and one was taken, and they ate it between
them.
By and by the Leopard returned again from the hunt with
some more meat ; but the Tortoise pretended that the children
were asleep ; so the meat was again put through the wndow,
and off went the Leopard to hunt in the forest.
The Eagle then came and begged for another child, and
receiving it he went and ate it on a high tree.
When the Leopard returned next time, she insisted on
seeing the children, but the Tortoise said : “ You stop there
and I will show them to you at the window.”
The Tortoise then took up the only child left, and holding
it at the window he said, “ That is one.” He put it down and
held it up again, and said, “ That is two.” Then he showed it
again at the window for the third time, and said, “ That is
three.” The Leopard, thereupon, went away satisfied.
The Eagle came again and asked for the “ other child to
eat.”
“ What shall I do,” asked the Tortoise, “ when the Leopard
returns and finds all her children are gone ? ”
“ Oh, I will take care of you,” said the Eagle reassuringly ;
“ I will fly with you to a high tree.” The last child was given
and eaten, and then the Eagle took the Tortoise to the branch
of a very high tree.
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FOLK-LORE STORIES
Shortly after the Eagle had carried off the Tortoise the
Leopard returned, and finding all her children gone she wept
very loudly for some time ; then looking about her she saw
the Tortoise on the top of a tree.
The Leopard gnawed at the tree, and just as it was going to
fall the Tortoise called out to his friend, the Eagle, to help him.
The Eagle carried him to another tree. The Leopard gnawed
that one ; so the Eagle removed the Tortoise to another high
tree ; but the Leopard gnawed that also.
The Tortoise called for his friend, the Eagle ; but the Eagle
replied : “ I am tired of helping you, take care of yourself,”
and off he flew, leaving his friend in the lurch, and never
returned again. The tree fell, and the Leopard killed the
Tortoise. That is why the bush animals are afraid to hurt the
Leopard’s children.
Story VII
The Kite breaks his promise to the Tortoise
When the Tortoise and the Kite made blood-brotherhood
the Kite said : “ Friend Tortoise, now that we have become
brothers, catch an electric fish for me.”
“ Friend Kite,” replied the Tortoise, “ when you see a skin
floating on the river you will know that I have caught the
fish you desire. Swoop down and take it ; and, friend Kite,
thou art one who lives in the air, tie up the wind and bring it
to me.”
By and by the Tortoise killed an electric fish (nina), and set
it floating on the river. When the Kite saw it he said : “ Ah,
there is the fish my friend Tortoise has sent me.” He thereupon
dropped to the river, picked up the fish, and carried it away
to a high tree, where he ate it.
The Tortoise waited a long time, but the Kite never brought
him the wind ; so seeing the Eagle one day fishing by the river
bank he said to him, “ Come here, friend Eagle,” and when the
Eagle had ahghted on a branch near by, the Tortoise continued :
211
FOLK-LORE STORIES
“ Well, my friend the Kite and I made blood-brotherhood,
and he asked me to send him an electric fish, and I asked him
to bring me the wind, and he agreed to this bargain. I have
sent him his fish, but he has not brought me the wind. When
you see the Kite remind him of his promise.”
The Eagle met the Kite next day on the top of a tree and said
to him : “ When you make blood-brotherhood with a person
you should keep your promise to him. Why don’t you take
the wind to the Tortoise ? ”
“ I have not yet tied it up,” said the Kite as he flew off.
The Tortoise waited, but the Kite not coming he went ashore,
climbed to the roof of a house, and tied himself into a bundle
like a parcel of fish.
The Kite, seeing the bundle and thinking it was some fish,
he swooped down on it and carried it away to a tree, and while
he was undoing the bundle the Tortoise said : “ Friend Kite,
you have deceived me, and you have broken your promise.
Where is the wind you agreed to bring to me ? ”
The Kite was so alarmed that he dropped the Tortoise and
flew away. And because of his broken promise to his friend
he has lost the power to sail on the wind like the Eagle ; but
has to constantly flutter and flap his wings. ^
Story VIII
Whtj the Plantain-eater did not build a Nest
The Plantain-eater is a gaudy-plumaged bird, not quite
so large as a Cockatoo. It is called by the natives Lukulu-
Icoko. Its notes are, Kulu ! kulu ! kulukoko ! hence the
natives say, “It is always talking about itself.”
All the birds built nests so that when it rained they could
enter them and remain dry. The Plantain-eater, however,
never troubled to build a nest, but when the rain fell in torrents
* To break a promise made at the time of making blood-brotherhood is
considered very bad, and is regarded as certain to bring punishment.
212
FOLK-LORE STORIES
he went to a neighbour and said : “ Let me come into your
nest out of the rain.”
But his neighbour answered him : “ No, go and cut some
palm fronds and build your own nest.”
The Plantain-eater, at this reply, went off crying : “ Kulu !
kulu ! kulukoko ! Wait until the rain stops, and then I will
fetch fronds to build my nest.”
By and by the rain ceased and the neighbours called out :
“ Plantain-eater, the rain is finished, now get your fronds
for nest building.”
But the Plantain-eater said : “ I will stop where I am,
and when it rains I will raise my shoulders and put my head
under my feathers, and the rain will not hurt me.”
The next time it rained, however, he found it was very
unpleasant to be out in it ; and again he asked to be allowed
to enter a neighbour’s nest, but he was driven off. Thus it
always happened that when it rained he intended to build a
house ; and when it was fine he said he did not need a house,
but would put his head under his feathers.
And that is why the Plantain-eater is seen jumping from
branch to branch in the rain, trying to enter other people’s
nests, making all kinds of promises in the rain, and only talking
loudly and boasting in the fine weather of what he will do.
Story IX
Why the Water-snake has no Poison
When the Python had given birth to all the snakes she said
to them : “You have no poison now, but another day I will
call you, and give to each of you a proper share of poison.”
After a time the day arrived, and the Python called all her
children to receive the promised gift. The green snake, the
viper, the whip-snake, the diamond-headed snake all arrived,
and each received his share of the poison so as to defend himself
from his enemies. Wherever these snakes went on a journey
213
FOLK-LORE STORIES
everybody jumped out of their way, for if they did not they
were bitten and suffered much pain.
The Water-snake, however, instead of obeying his mother’s
call, went off to the river to fish. By and by he became tired
of fishing, and thought he would go and hear what his mother
the Python wanted.
As he went he met the other snakes returning, and heard
that they had received their gifts from their mother. On his
arrival he asked her for his share of the poison.
But the Python said : “No, I called you, and instead of
coming you went fishing, so now you have lost your share of
the poison through disobedience.”
That is why the Water-snake is only laughed at when he
bites, and no one thinks of moving out of his way, for he has
no poison through disregarding his mother’s call.
Story X
How the Squirrel outivitted the Elephant
The Squirrel and the Elephant met one day in the forest
and had a big discussion about forest matters. At last the
Elephant sneeringly said: “You are a Squirrel, you are only a
little bit of a thing. Can you hold either my foot or my leg ?
No, you are too small to touch even one of my legs ! ”
“You may be a big thing,” retorted the Squirrel, “ but
can you keep on eating palm nuts as long as I can ? ”
After much talk they decided to collect bunches of palm
nuts, and when all was ready they sat down to the eating
contest. Before beginning, however, the Squirrel had secreted
a number of his friends in the forest near by.
The Elephant began the contest by putting a bunch of
palm nuts into his mouth ; but the Squirrel took the nuts
one by one and ate them. And when the Squirrel was full he
made some excuse and slipped away, and another squirrel took
his place. In this way Squirrel after Squirrel exchanged
places with each other unnoticed by the Elephant, who con-
214
FOLK-LORE STORIES
tinued to eat all the morning, and the big pile of palm nuts grew
smaller and smaller.
At last the Elephant asked : “ Are you full, friend Squirrel ? ”
“ No,” answered the last Squirrel, “ I feel as though I had
only just begun.”
” Is that so ? ” grunted the Elephant. “ Well, you are a
wonderful little thing. Why, I am getting fuller and fuller.”
After that they went on eating again.
In the afternoon the Elephant asked again : “ Friend Squirrel,
are you full yet ? ”
“ No,” replied the last Squirrel, “ I have not eaten half
enough yet.” And he took up some more nuts to eat.
The Elephant had not room for more than a sigh ; and
towards sunset he said : “ I am full, and cannot eat any more
palm nuts.”
Thus the Elephant confessed he was beaten, and ever after
that he refrained from annoying and ridiculing his friends
and neighbours because they were smaller than himself.
The natives are very careful not to taunt slaves about their
condition, or to twit a person about poverty or lowly birth.
It is considered to be the acme of rudeness to remind another
that he is not so fine a fellow as you are, or as he thinks he is.
Of course, folk often lost their temper and said bitter things
to each other. The following story shows the punishment that
fell to a man because in his anger he was rude to his slave wife.
Story XI
Rudeness and its Punishment
There was a man once who built a house on an island and
went fishing in its creeks and pools. He plaited a large number
of fish-traps, and set them in good places for catching fish.
One morning he went to look at the traps and found one
full of fish, and among the fish was a Lolembe.^ He took
' l^otopterus afer.
216
FOLK-LORE STORIES
them to his house, and then went to another part of the island
to visit some other traps ; but on his return he found some
food cooked and placed in a saucepan by the fire. In his
surprise he called out, “ Who has cooked this food ? ” but there
was no answer. All night he pondered this wonder in his heart,
for he knew he was alone on the island.
The next morning he pretended to go to his traps, but
turning back quickly he hid himself behind his house and
watched through an opening in the wall. By and by he was
amazed to see the Lolembe turn into a woman, who at once
began to cook the food, whereupon the man showed himself to
her and said : “ Oh, you are the one who cooked my food
yesterday ! ”
“ Yes,” she replied. They were married, and in due time
the woman gave birth to two boys and a girl ; and they lived
with mueh contentment on the island.
One day the man said to one of his sons : “You come and
help me with the fish-traps,” and away they went together to
look at the various traps.
The lad was a lazy, disobedient boy who would not listen
properly to what was told him, so when the father wanted to
empty the water out of the canoe and told him to go to the
right side, the boy went straight to the left side, because it
was nearer to him than the other side. The father became
very vexed, and beating him in his anger, he said: “ You are
too lazy and too proud to do what you are told. Do you know
that your mother came out of one of these fish-traps, for she
was only a Lolembe ? ”
The boy on hearing this went crying to his mother, and told
her all his father had said. The mother soothed him, but in
her heart she said : “ My husband jeers at me because I am
only a Lolembe, yet I have been a good wife to him ; perhaps
some other day he will call me worse names, and when we
return to the town everybody will know that I came out of
one of his fish-traps. I will return to my own place in the
river.”
216
FOLK-LORE STORIES
She thereupon fell into the river, and ehanging into a
Lolembe she swam away. “ Therefore,” says the native story-
teller, “ never taunt a person with being a slave.”
The next two stories are illustrative of the native reason
for the loss of eternal life, or why people die, instead of con-
tinuing to live for ever on the earth.
Story XII
Nkengo fails to obtain lasting life
Nkengo was the son of Libuta, and he noticed that the
people were dying daily in great numbers. So one day he
called out loudly : “You Cloud-folk, throw me down a rope ! ”
The Cloud-folk heard and threw him a rope. Nkengo held
on to it and was pulled up to the Cloud-land.
When he arrived there Nkengo had to wait one day, and
in the morning the Cloud-folk said to him: “ You have come
here to receive lasting life (lobiku) and escape from death.
You cannot make your request for seven days, and in the
meantime you must not go to sleep.”
Nkengo was able to keep awake for six days, but on the
seventh day he nodded and went to sleep. The Cloud-folk
woke him up, saying: “ You came here to receive lasting life
and escape from death. You were able to keep awake six
days. Why did you abandon your purpose on the seventh
day ? ” They were so angry with him that they drove him
out of Cloud-land and lowered him to the earth.
The people on the earth asked him what had happened up
above, and Nkengo replied : “ When I reached Cloud-land
they told me that in order to gain lasting life I must keep
awake for seven days. I did not sleep for six days and six
nights ; but on the seventh day I nodded in sleep ; whereupon
they drove me out, saying : “ Get away with your dying ;
you shall not receive lasting life, for every day there shall be
death among you ! ”
217
FOLK-LORE STORIES
His friends laughed at him beeause he went to receive
lasting life and lost it through sleeping. That is the reason
why death continues in the world.
The following story also gives the reason for the continuance
of death in the world. It was told me by a friend who lived
for many years among the Balolo tribe at Bolengi (Equator-
ville district), about fifty or sixty miles below Monsembe.
Story XIII
The Two Bundles
AVhile a man was working one day in the forest a little
man with two bundles — one large and one small — went to
him and asked : “ Which of these two bundles will jmu have ?
This one ” (taking up the large bundle) “ contains looking-
glasses, knives, beads, cloth, etc. ; and this one ” (taking up
the little bundle) “ contains lasting life.”
“ I cannot choose by myself,” answered the man ; “ I must
go and ask the other people in the town.”
While he was gone to ask the other people some women
arrived, and the choice was put to them. The women tried
the edges of the knives, bedecked themselves in the cloth,
admired themselves in the looking-glasses, and without more
ado they selected the big bundle and took it away. The little
man, picking up the small bundle, vanished.
On the return of the man from the town both the little
man and his bundles had disappeared. The women exhibited
and shared the things, but death continued on the earth.
Hence the people say : “ Oh, if those women had only chosen
the small bundle, we folk would not be dying like this ! ”
218
FOLK-LORE STORIES
Story XIV
The Spider regrets her Marriage
There was a Spider who lived with her parents in their
town. She was unmarried, and it was very difficult to find a
husband for her as she was so hard to please.
One young man asked her father for her in marriage, but
he said: “ You must ask her yourself.” And when he said to
her : “ I love you. Will you be my wife ? ” she replied,
“ No,” in such a way that he went back to his house very angry.
Another young man came, and she said : “ I refuse all hus-
bands, for I am going to remain as I am.”
After a time another suitor came, and when the Spider
declined him he said: “ You refuse all offers of marriage from
us ; but a person wll come who will not be a proper person at
all, for he will have changed himself to look like a nice man.
You will marry him, and you will have much trouble on going
with him, for he will take you to his country, which will be
far away, and you will regret that you have refused all of us.”
“ Be quiet ! ” she shouted ; “ you are angry because I will
not marry you, and that is why you threaten me.”
“ Very well,” said he, “ you think I am telling you a lie,”
and away he went to his town. Now this was the Python who
spoke to the girl.
The Python waited in his town for some time, and then he
changed himself into another and nicer form and paid a visit
to the Spider, and said to her : “ Spider, I have come to marry
you.”
The Spider asked him : “ Do you love me or not ? ”
He answered her : “ I love you,” and they were married.
After a time he said : “ Spider, we must return to my town.”
And he deceitfully told her that he lived in a fine town, and
was very rich. He also promised his father-in-law that he
would return in six months — a promise he never intended to
keep.
219
FOLK-LORE STORIES
The Spider and her husband started on their journey, and
went on and on and on for two months, and the wife became
very tired with the long walk.
As they were nearing their town a person said to her : “ The
one who is travelling with you is not a real person, but a snake
that has changed itself to look like a person. Do not believe
in him,”
They reached the husband’s town, which she found was
simply a tree with a large hole in it. The husband changed
back to his snake form, and coiling himself up in the hole he
left his wife to do the best she could outside.
The Spider was very angry, and repented having been so
stupid as to refuse all the nice young men of her own town to
be deceived by this snake from a distance. The poor Spider
became very thin and would have died, only someone helped
her back to her father.
The custom of making blood-brotherhood was very common
on the Upper Congo. The ceremony has already been de-
scribed in a previous chapter, and therefore it is not necessary
to go again into detail. During the performance of the rite
the contracting parties who exhibited any doubt of each other’s
faithfulness in properly observing the bond would put one
another under a prohibition or taboo, and so long as they
carefully obeyed the prohibition the blood bond remained in
force.
In the following story the birds enter into this blood bond,
and the peculiarities of each are regarded as prohibitions
placed on them during the ceremony. There are many such
stories accounting for the physical idiosyncrasies of various
birds and animals.
Story XV
The Heron and the Parrot are unbelieving
When the Heron and the Parrot entered into the bonds of
blood-brotherhood the Heron put the Parrot under a ban,
220
FOLK-LORE STORIES
saying: “ Friend Parrot, you must always remain in the tree-
tops, and never alight on the ground. If you do so you will
not be able to fly again, for you will be caught, killed, and
eaten ; and even if you are not killed the folk who cateh you
will tame you, and you will lose your power to fly again in
the air.”
The Parrot said : “ Friend Heron, you must never build a
house to sleep in it ; if you do you will die.”
After some time the Heron began to doubt the words of
the Parrot, and he said to himself : “ Perhaps my friend told
me a lie about sleeping in a house. I will test his words, and
if I die my family will know that the words of the Parrot are
true, and they will never sleep in a house.”
That evening the Heron entered a house (nest), and next
morning his family found him lying dead. Ever sinee that
time the Herons have always slept on the branches of the trees.
The Parrot also doubted the power of the Heron’s pro-
hibition, and said to himself : “ I will alight on the ground, and
if I am unable to fly again my family will know the Heron’s
words are true ones.”
So down the Parrot flew, and alighting on the ground he
found there plenty to eat, but when he tried to rise again he
was not able to use his wings. Some people caught him and
tamed him, and he remained a slave in their town.
That is the reason why the Parrots always fly high above
the tree-tops and never alight on the earth, because of the pro-
hibition of their friend the Heron.
The writer has many more of these stories, but the above
are fairly typical of the lines upon whieh they run, although
every story has its own little plot and exhibits some char-
acteristic trait of native mind and habit.
221
CHAPTER XV
WAR
No army — The family fight — The town fight — The district fight— Procuring
volunteers — “ Medicine” put on spears — Poison used — No night attacks
— Lips of the slain worn by the slayer — Spirit of the slain — Mode of
attack — Prisoners — Women a cause of quarrels — War omens — War dance
—Spears and flint-lock guns.
NE can hardly dignify the quarrels and fights that
occur among the Boloki and their neighbours by the
name of war. There is no army and no organization,
but all the men and lads take part in the fight that affects their
family or their town. Their fights may be divided into three
classes — the family fight, the town fight, and the district fight.
The second and third generally arise out of the first.
The family fight. If a family has a quarrel with another
family in the town neither guns, spears, nor knives are used
in the fight that follows, but always sticks. I do not mean to
say that no man ever draws his knife on another in a town
quarrel ; but that when two families in the same town de-
liberately fight each other they use only sticks as their weapons.
They have talked until they are tired ; it is not a case for the
ordeal ; and the ordinary methods of judging a case have
failed, so they resort to sticks, and the party driven off the
“ field ” by sheer weight of blows is the loser. The losing side
then pays up and the affair is ended. The other families in
the town scarcely ever take sides, but look on and enjoy the
performance.
When a family in one town has a fight with the family of
another town, then spears, knives, and guns are freely used.
222
The Monsembe people for several weeks were threatened by some neighbouring villages with an attack, so they abandoned their houses, and
built a number of these huts on the beach, and on the land side erected a strong palisade to protect themselves.
THE FAMILY FIGHT
If family A of X town goes to fight family B of Z town, then
the other families in Z will stand ready armed to assist their
neighbours should they not be able to repulse the enemy ;
and should the other families in Z town help the B family to
drive out A family, then the other families in X town \vill help
A family on its next venture into the enemy’s town, and what
was originally a family feud becomes a fight between two
towns. It may happen that B family has not the sympathy
of the other families in Z town, and they will stand by and see
that family driven out and their houses raided; or it may
also happen that the A family has not the sympathy of the
other families in X town, and they will not join forces with it
to fight the folk who have repulsed them.
This is put to the test in the following way : The head of
the defeated family puts a plantain leaf over his shoulder one
evening and walks through the town calling out the reason
for the fight, the family against whom he is fighting, and
asking that volunteers who are willing to help him will meet
next morning outside his house ready armed to accompany him.
Very often no one turns up, and the man has to consider
whether his own family has any chance of success if it prose-
cutes the fight alone, or whether some other way cannot be
found of settling the affair.
If, however, the head of the family is an important man of
known bravery who can command a large following of slaves and
relatives, and there is every prospect of success, then a large
number of volunteers will turn up the next morning. I have
often seen a man going through the town with a plantain
leaf across his shoulder calling for supporters. Sometimes they
were such unimportant men that they were laughed at for their
trouble.
When the families in Z town see A family returning to the
assault with so many volunteers they wll at once go to the
assistance of their hard-pressed neighbour, for the honour and
safety of the town are now at stake, and the affair now
becomes a town fight.
223
POISON USED
A town fight. The X town goes en masse to fight the enemy,
leaving behind only the women, the children, the aged, and
the sick. If X town is driven back by Z town and is unable to
defend its position, then the women and children are carried
off, the aged and sick are killed, the town raided, everything
portable is removed, and the houses burnt to the ground ;
but if the X folk, although driven back, are able to defend
their town they will set sentries for the night ; and next day
they will send their biggest head-man with a plantain leaf over
his shoulder to call up volunteers from the other towns with
whom they are friendly, and then it becomes a war between
district and district.
When men go to fight distant towns their wives are expected
not to commit adultery with such men as are left in the town,
or their husbands will receive spear wounds from the enemy.
The sisters of the fighters will take every precaution to guard
against the unfaithfulness of their brothers’ wives while they
are on the expedition.
Some fighters put fetish “ medicine ” on their spears to
give precision of aim ; others rub them with a vegetable
poison made from the burnt ashes of munsansangu leaves ;
and others go to the medicine man of the ndemo to render
them invisible to the enemy.
It is impossible to keep the arrangements for an attack
secret. There are always friends and relatives who will inform
their friends, etc., on the other side, and the drums are beaten
and the fighters prepare for the attack. The head of the family
whose quarrel it is arranges the fight and leads the van with
his own slaves, family, etc. If necessary he takes counsel
with the heads of the other families helping him.
I never knew them to make a night attack. They would
often lie in ambush and capture, if possible, those who fell into
the trap, and kill those who tried to escape. Attacks were
often made in the early morning, soon after three o’clock. No
scouts were employed, but when necessary sentries were
placed, and when they became sleepy they aroused two of
224
Photo by'\ IR(V. /K H. Stapleton
A Boloki Shield
Tbe man is a Monsembe slave of the Mongo tribe. The shield is strongly plaited of dyed
grasses and ornamented round the edge with skins. It is used more for deflecting spears than for
receiving them. At the back is a wooden plate about half the length and width of the shield, to
which the basket-work is laced.
MODE OF ATTACK
their comrades to take their places. The fighting was not
worthy of the name of a battle, but was simply an affray, a
melee, in which there was no order and no words of command.
No truce was allowed, but when one side was tired of the fight,
or was getting the worst of it, they sent for a go-between
{molekaleku) to arrange a meeting and the terms upon which
blood-brotherhood could be made.
A man of conspicuous bravery who kills a man in a fight
receives congratulatory presents, and at drinking-bouts the
first mug of sugar-cane wine is served to him as long as he
retains such pre-eminence, and he has no difficulty in procuring
volunteers to aid him in any of his personal quarrels. When
a man kills his opponent in a fight he cuts off his head and
removes his lips, which latter he thoroughly dries in the sun,
and then sticks them over with brass chair nails and wears them
as an ornament with as much pride as a decoration is worn
by the civilized soldier — it is the man’s medal for bravery.
The skull of the slain man is put at the base of a palm, or other
tree just outside the victor’s house, and when the victor dies
the spirit of the conquered and slain man is called upon to do
service to the spirit of the conqueror in longa, or the spirit-
world.
The Boloki when attacking a town will often divide into two
parties, and while one division attacks the place in front by
water, the other makes a detour over land and attacks the rear.
When chasing the enemy they throw their light, thin, fighting
spears in the air, and these, turning, come down head first and
pierce the shoulders, and I have known some to enter the top
of the arm and come out at the elbow. For warding off spears
they use grass-plaited shields, fine-woven cotton belts wound
round and round the waist, and some have cuirasses of hippo-
potamus hide to cover the back. The cuirass fastens in front,
and at the fastening there is generally a dagger in a sheath,
which is easily drawn. There are a few flint-lock trade guns
among them, but they rely on their light, thin spears and
knives of various lengths and shapes. Lads who cannot
225
p
PRISONERS
obtain spears use stieks with sharpened points that have been
hardened in the fire, and with these they harass the enemy.
When fighting they wear skin hats, more as a protection
against cuts than for ornament ; and the whole face is black-
ened with a thick paste of oil and soot, or oil and burnt ground
nuts, and the eyes are surrounded with circles of chalk or
white clay. This is to disguise them from their enemies.
The Boloki, among the Congo people, are acknowledged to be
the fiercest and the bravest in a fight, and are greatly feared
by the other tribes.
Prisoners taken are held to ransom, and if not ransomed
they are retained, sold, or killed, according to the whim of the
captor. The first prisoner taken by a man is given, as a first-
fruit, to the man’s father, or, failing him, to his nearest relative.
Women very often become the wives of their captors. Prisoners
captured in war belong to their captors, and the same applies
to all kinds of spoils. The bodies of enemies are carried when
possible from the “ field ” and eaten at a general feast. If the
prisoners are not redeemed they become slaves, and while the
young ones amalgamate with their conquerors, and often
become a part of the families of their owners, the elder ones
who have their own tribal marks well defined never take other
than a servile position in the towns of their masters.
The chief cause of quarrels and fights on the Congo is about
women, and although the ostensible reason may be a drunken
row or a debt, yet if you push the matter to its real origin you
will in nine cases out of ten find a woman at the bottom of it.
Directly after blood-brotherhood is made all is friendly so far
as seeming outward appearances may show ; but I know
from experience that the conquered are only awaiting their
opportunity of revenge.
There are certain omens that demand careful attention
during war time. To some, if a snake during war goes in
front towards the enemy it is a sign that success will attend
their undertaking, but if the snake comes towards them the
omen is against them. To others, if the muntontwa (a small
226
A Boloki Method of Beheading
WAR DANCE
active bird with a long beak) flies towards the enemy the omen
is in their favour, but if it comes from the direction of the
enemy it is not to be disregarded or some calamity will surely
overtake them. To most natives it will be a bad sign if a
man kicks his foot against anything in the road. Sometimes
the stronger-minded ones laugh away the fears of those who
are inclined to turn back if the omens are against them ; but
it more frequently happens that they turn en masse, probably
glad to postpone the fight.
After a fight, in which some of the enemy are killed, only
the men meet to engage in the honkani dance. The men dance
with their spears and knives, and any goats, sheep, dogs, or
fowls that approach the dancers are instantly speared, cooked,
and eaten. As a man beats the drum one after another of the
dancers advances, and in a solo tells of his exploits during the
late fight, which exploits are more often in the imagination
than on the field of battle ; but they vie with one another in
“ drawing the long bow ” on such occasions.
At times they use the following divination to ascertain the
results of a proposed fight : A saucepan of marsh or forest
water is procured and some “ medicine ” is put into it. The
saucepan is placed on the fire, to which none but the operators
have access, and then, after due time, they say to this likato
(saucepan of water with “ medicine ” in it), “ Will they kill
us in the fight ? ” If the water boils up and fills the saucepan,
then it is an omen that some of them will be killed, so they
abandon the war ; but if the water keeps low they ask, “ Shall
we kill some of them in the fight ? ” Then if the water rises
in the saucepan it is an omen that some of the enemy will be
killed, and the war is prosecuted ; but if the water does not
boil over it indicates that they will not kill any of the enemy,
consequently the proposed fight is dropped. This test is
applied several times before it is considered satisfactory.
I have seen natives fight both on the Lower and Upper
Congo. On the Lower Congo flint-loek guns are used, and do
almost as much harm to the firer as to the one fired at. Through
227
SPEARS AND FLINT-LOCK GUNS
being so flimsily made a heavy charge of gunpowder will often
cause the old gas-pipe barrels to explode, and a large number
of our hospital accidents are from guns bursting in hunting
and fighting. The firer holds the butt of his gun against the
palm of his right hand, consequently when the gun jerks in
firing, the bullet goes anywhere but at the object aimed at
unless that object is very near. I have known over two
hundred men fire at about thirty for a whole day and only one
man was wounded in the ankle by a spent slug. Their guns
will not carry far, and they stand at long distances from one
another and fire.
On the other hand, the Boloki, relying as he does on his fight-
ing spear, runs in to throw it, and many wounds are inflicted in
a very short time. On the Lower Congo a person is seldom killed
in a fight with guns ; but among the Boloki there is never a
fight between town and town without several deaths.
228
CHAPTER XVI
HUNTING
Scarcity of animal life — Bush-burning— Game in ancient times — No bush-
burning on Upper Congo — Scarcity of game — Absence of prairie lands —
Large forests — Division of an animal— Mode of preserving meat — Omen
of success or failure — Taboo on trap makers — Fetishing hunting-dog —
Spears used for some animals— String nets for others.
HOSE parts of the Congo with which I am acquainted
are not teeming with animal life, so far as my experience
goes. I cannot claim the role of an ardent sportsman,
yet I carried my gun many a weary mile in search of supplies
for my table, nor did I often return unsuccessful.
The natives, both on the Upper and Lower Congo, give much
time to hunting, and are fairly successful when there is game
about. Undoubtedly the annual grass-burning on the Lower
Congo has gradually and surely reduced the game, so that a
party of hunters does not now bring home an antelope once in
two months, although they might be out almost every day.
In August, September, and early October hundreds of miles of
bush are burnt to the ground. Every town has its own “ bush,”
and after burning a circle round their town to secure it against
fire when the “ bush ” is blazing before a rushing wind, the
town-folk arrange to fire one “ patch of bush ” after another,
until the whole country is black with charred grass stumps.
When a patch is burnt it is surrounded by the chief and his
men owning it, and they shoot down the antelopes, bush-pigs,
palm-rats, gazelles, etc., as they rush by in terror from the on-
coming flames. This annual bush-burning has been going on
229
GAME IN ANCIENT TIMES
for generations, and accounts for the scarcity of animal life on
the Lower Congo.
In a book i I have before me there are evidences that animal
life was very prolific at the time of the narrator’s visit to the
Kingdom of Congo. He gives various accounts of the mode of
hunting then followed on the Lower Congo, but does not
mention any bush-burning, so apparently this mode of hunting
came into vogue at a later date. He also speaks of the lion
and zebra as being plentiful ; these now, however, are never
seen on the Lower Congo. He mentions the tiger (?) as being
very numerous and fierce ; but as he gives the native name —
engoi — we know that he is speaking of the leopard, which is
regarded still as a royal beast, and is always spoken of as mfumu
(lord).
On the Upper Congo are many hippopotami — in a quiet side
channel in 1890 we counted over one hundred of these huge
beasts on a single sandbank ; and as we passed the noise of our
steamer frightened them. They took to the water, churned it
in their alarm, and thumped the bottom of our steamer re-
peatedly. Crocodiles are very numerous, and are frequently
killed from the decks of steamers passing up and down the
river. They are more cautious than formerly, and make for
the river on the slightest alarm. Many water-birds are to be
seen along the banks, and in the quieter creeks and channels
monkeys of various species sit chattering in the trees. The
numerous steamers that now run up and down the river and
its larger tributaries have frightened the hippo, the crocodile,
and monkeys from the main channels to the smaller ones,
and the hunter must now go by canoe, boat, or small launch
up these unfrequented water bypaths if he is in search of
sport.
There is no bush-burning on the Upper Congo, for the
greater part of it is forest land, with here and there an open
glade of forty or fifty acres in extent. Animal life, however, is
' “ A Report of the Kingdom of Congo from the writings etc. of Duarte
Lopez by Filippo Pigafetta, in Rome 1591.”
230
SCARCITY OF GAME
not prolific, and this may be accounted for, perhaps, by these
reasons : There are no great prairie or bush-lands where animals
can breed in comparative security, and the Equatorial district
for hundreds of miles is periodically flooded. About every ten
or eleven years the banks are under water. I have had to go
about my own station in a boat, and I have eaten antelopes and
bush-pigs that were caught and killed just off our station in the
over-swollen river. In August, 1890, the river at Monsembe was
eleven feet below the bank, but every year its highest rise was
higher than the previous year, until in November, 1896, and
again in 1897, the river was running under our houses. Then
for a few years its highest watermark was lower than the pre-
ceding year ; and in 1903 it took the turn, and the country was
flooded again in 1908. During the 1896 flood we learned from
the natives that the river “ was flooded like this when So-and-so
was a boy that height.” We judged that to be about ten years
before.
These floods have undoubtedly helped to keep down the
animal life of the Equatorial district, and, in addition, it is
probable that forest lands are not such good breeding-places
as the open veldt lands of South Africa, where the enemy cannot
so easily take an animal by surprise.
There are in every Boloki town two or three men who are the
recognized hunters, either because of their success, their swift-
ness of movement, their accuraey of aim, or their daring cour-
age. These men are the leaders in the hunt, and always receive
a larger share of the spoil than the ordinary man.
The owner of the slain animal is he whose spear first enters
a vital part, and though the others have a share according to
their importance, yet he takes the largest portion for himself.
Various relatives, head-men, and chiefs have rights over cer-
tain parts of an animal killed by a relative or a member of the
town. These portions vary considerably with the different
families and towns. A child takes a leg or a shoulder of the
animal slain by his father, a mother receives the belly-piece or
the neck from her successful son. These bespoke portions that
231
MODE OF PRESERVING MEAT
belong to the family are called hilelo. The head-man of the
town receives the head or a leg, and his portion is called
motando. After the fortunate hunter has met these claims, and
has given his companions in the hunt a piece each, there is often
not much left for himself. There is no close season for hunting.
The boundaries of the town are well defined, and the islands
belonging to a town are well known to all the other towns in
the neighbourhood. If an animal is killed on ground owned by
a town other than that to which the huntsman belongs, he has
to send a portion of it — generally the head — to the chief who
claims the land.
The only mode I observed among them for preserving the
meat is that of thoroughly drying it, or smoking it, over a fire.
As a rule not much meat is preserved in this way, as the animal
is usually eaten all up in three or four days. Those who have
more than they can eat are always willing to sell some of it to
the less fortunate, and buyers are numerous.
Men going to hunt carry their special charms with them,
either on their person or on their spears. These charms are
almost as numerous as there are huntsmen ; you will scarcely
find two men in a party who have faith in the same kind of
charm. But there are certain ceremonies performed in which
all the huntsmen take part.
In the case of a special hunt, say for killing elephants, a
medicine man was called who took two or three days to per-
form an elaborate ritual and “ make medicine.” This only
occurred once during my residence at Monsembe, and then the
hunt was not successful. Although I inquired about what the
medicine man did, the people were too suspicious of me to
inform me about his proceedings. I found later that the natives
thought that the spirits of the deceased who inhabited the
forests had power to turn the animals aside from the traps and
thus render them ineffective, so the first thing to be done when
arranging a hunt was to call the medicine man of the mat.
This medicine man brought his mats, charms, some saucepans
and calabashes. He set up his mat, and entering the enclosed
232
FETISH HUNTING-DOG
space he went through secret rites that lasted from one to three
days. During these secret ceremonies he caught the spirits of
the locality where the trap was set (or was to be set), and shut
them up in a saucepan, or secured them safely in a calabash.
Again, all those concerned in the hunt had to chew red
pepper and the pulp of the nsafu 'fruit, and if anyone refused
to eat this mixture or could not spit it out properly it was
taken as an adverse omen and the hunt abandoned. When
the medicine man had secured the spirits in his saucepan or
calabash, and the omen was satisfactory, the man who started
the proceedings and two or three friends went and put up the
spear- trap. From the time of setting the trap until an animal
was killed in it and eaten, these men abstained from all inter-
course with women, otherwise the luck would be bad and their
trap unsuccessful. The same prohibition was enforced on hunters
who made traps (motam&w=noose-traps) for bush-pigs and
burrowing animals.
The natives are not good trackers. I very often hunted with
them, and after a short time I was able to track the game as
quickly as they. They relied more on the animal running into
a trap, or into a noose, than tracking them down and spearing
them. They never went tracking for long distances like the
North American Indians, but simply for a mile or two round
their own towns. Undoubtedly the various chiefs owning the
ground and demanding certain parts of the animals killed on
their land restricted the tracking and hunting to small areas
for setting traps only, and consequently their tracking instincts
were not developed.
The medicine man of the mat takes the dog selected for
hunting purposes and puts into its mouth and nose the juice
pressed from a crushed shrub called mumpongo, and this makes
the dog keen of scent and courageous in the hunt. When such
a dog dies it is not eaten like other dogs, but is buried in a mat
like a child, for it is a fetish dog, and hence it is supposed to
have a kind of spirit which, if not properly treated, can bring
bad luck on its former owner.
233
SPEARS USED FOR SOME ANIMALS
For hippopotami, elephants, and antelopes spring traps were
placed across their tracks. These traps are made by putting two
stout uprights about four feet apart, one on either side of the
track ; then a stout cross-piece is tied at about twelve feet
from the ground. To the middle of this cross-piece and right
over the track is fixed a heavy log of wood ; and into the down-
ward end of the log is placed a strong, sharp, heavy spear or
prong. The log is so arranged that when the string which
stretches across the path is touched by the passing animal, down
comes the log, and four times out of six the spear enters the
body of the beast. I once saw the body of a man who, while
running in the forest, had inadvertently touched the spring
of one of these traps. The spear caught him in the back of the
neck, passed through his body, and came out between his
legs. Such traps were called mbonga. Occasionally pit-traps
are made, but it is seldom that anything is found in them.
In hunting the larger bush animals, and also crocodiles, the
spear is the most common weapon, and this is hurled with
great precision and swiftness. But in hunting smaller game,
as the small antelopes, coypus, or palm-rats, bush-pigs, and
gazelle-like animals, long string nets are employed. These nets
are placed in a semicircle near where the animal is supposed
to be, and then the hunters carefully beat the bush, driving the
game before them into the net. Most of the hunting-spears
are light, with a small blade and thin shaft, and some have
barbs along either side of the blade.
234
CHAPTER XVII
FISHING
Collecting fish for the Museum — Modes of fishing — By torchlight — Fish-
fences — Traps and spoon-nets — Floating buoys and hooks— Fish-spears
— Fish poisons — Prohibition with fish traps — Addressing the fisherman —
Penalties— First-fruits — Portion given to head chief.
ISH is very plentiful in the Congo and its tributaries.
The writer was asked a few years ago by the authorities
of the Natural History Museum, London, if he would
undertake to collect Congo fish for them. This he readily con-
sented to do, and was glad of the opportunity of rendering
them any assistance in his power on the understanding that it
should be no expense, for transport, etc., to his Society. The
Museum authorities sent him the necessary preserving spirits
and the tanks, The latter he filled with fish, labelled them and
forwarded them to M. G. A. Boulenger, who has charge of the
Ichthyological Department at the Natural History Museum.
The natives themselves became interested in collecting fish, and
brought me their catches to see if there was a fish among them
that I had not put into the “ box ” ; and when later the
Museum authorities sent me about fifty plates, beautifully
engraved, of the Congo fish that I and others had sent to them,
nothing delighted the native lads more than looking over those
plates and talking about the fish represented by them.
I started collecting in the following simple way : In 1893 we
had no fish-hooks on the station, but the boys asked my wife
to give them some pins with which to make hooks. This we
did, on the condition that the young fishermen brought their
catches to us and allowed us to take one or two fish for my
236
MODES OF FISHING
bottle. The fish they caught by such primitive means were, of
course, rather small, about the size of one’s fingers ; but I
soon had two pickle bottles full of various kinds of fish. These
bottles I brought home in 1895 and gave to the Natural History
Museum, and several new species were found in that small, un-
pretentious collection. This led the Museum authorities to
ask me to collect larger fish, which I gladly did.
I was much interested in noticing the various modes of
fishing pursued by the different tribes on the Congo, and will
here give the results of my observations : (1) Fishing by torches
at night. Fishermen in twos and threes would light a bunch
of grass, or an old mat, on a dark night and would walk quietly
along the river’s bank, holding the light well up with one hand
so as to attract the fish, and having in the other hand a long
knife or spear well poised, ready to strike any fish that was
attracted by the bright light. I never saw them catch a fish in
this way, but they must kill one occasionally, or they would
not trouble to spend their time in this manner. This mode
of fishing was common to all the peoples right along the river.
(2) During certain seasons of the year — May and November —
the Congo itself and its numerous tributaries, inlets, and creeks
are flooded with heavy rains. The watershed of the Congo
River is extensive enough to benefit by the rainy seasons
both north and south of the Equator ; hence the two rises in
the year — May and November.
At flood times fences are built across the smaller creeks and
streams. These fences are so closely woven that none but the
smallest fish can pass. As soon as the water falls, which it
generally does in six or eight weeks, those who built the fences
go and search the shallow water and mud for any fish that may
have been shut in the trap. In this way large quantities of
various kinds of fish are caught, which, being cleaned and
thoroughly dried in the smoke over a slow fire, help them much
by rendering their sour cassava more palatable. During the
time that the river is subsiding the people catch snails, and cut
them up to feed the fish in these creek traps, and also in any
236
I
TRAPS AND SPEAR-NETS
ponds and pools left on the islands by the receding river. At
flood time many of the islands are one and two feet under
water, and as the river goes down large pools are left in the
hollows. These are claimed by those people who, as the water
shallows, fatten the fish with snails and cassava parings, and
in due time they bail the remaining water out of these pools
A LONG FISH -TRAP
The mouth is put up-river, and partitions in it are so arranged that
fish can enter, but cannot get out. See page 34.1.
and catch the gasping fish left on the muddy bottom. The mud-
fish and siluroids are caught in large quantities in these pools
and ponds. Both these modes of fishing are common to the
whole river above Stanley Pool.
(3) On the Upper Congo, where the water is shallow and the
banks slope gradually and regularly, the natives select a suit-
able place and drive in a number of wooden stakes forming a
large semicircle, the ends of which touch the bank at from 15
237
TRAPS AND SPEAR-NETS
to 20 yards from each other. They then fasten long bamboo
nets to the stakes, thus enclosing a large sheet of water. A
large number of light branches and leaves are loosely thrown
over the surface of the enclosed water ; the up-river end of
this fish-trap is left open for the fish to pass in where they
find shade. Snails and cassava parings are cut up and thrown
in to fatten the fish and induce them to stay. As the river
rises more branches are thrown on the enclosed water, and
the fish gliding along the bank enter, and are charmed by the
cool shade and food they find there.
As soon as the river begins to fall below the top of the net
the opening is shut. At this stage the natives frequently
spear fish by probing with their fish-spears among the branches
and grass inside the trap. In a few weeks the river falls, and
the branches are carefully removed, and a number of women
and boys and girls enter the water with cone-shaped baskets
about 2 feet high, 18 inches in diameter at the mouth, and an
8-inch opening at the top. These baskets they lift up and
down in the water, placing the bottom firmly each time on
the river-bed, and from the feel they can tell whether a fish is
enclosed or not. They catch fish frequently in this way, and
then they put their hand through the top opening and grip it.
If the fish is too large for that, then a spear is passed through
and the fish pinned to the ground. See page 239.
Around the outside of the fence will be a number of canoes,
occupied by men and lads fishing with large string nets fastened
to stout canes of calamus palms. With these they spoon the
water and often bring up a fish. After a time the large bamboo-
net fence is slowly pulled up the sloping bank, sweeping before
it and enclosing in its narrowing space any fish that may
have escaped the spears, nets, and traps, until it is drawn
right up the bank. The whole scene is very animated, men
and women, boys and girls — a score or more of them — laugh-
ing, jesting, joking most noisily, splashing each other, scram-
bling, swimming, kicking, fighting, and diving in their efforts
to catch the fish they feel gliding between their legs or slipping
238
TRAPS AND SPEAR-NETS
through their fingers. Many go as mueh for the fun as for the
fish.
(4) Fish-hooks, probably first introduced by white men, are
in general use all along the river. The hook is baited with
See page 241.
See page 238.
cassava, or earth worms, or the entrails of fowls. It is thrown
into the river to lie on the bottom until it is found and swal-
lowed by a hungry fish. I have seen a fish weighing 20 pounds
caught in this way. The end of the line is a running noose
placed round the angler’s wrist. I once saw a boy about
14 years old jerked off the bank into the river by a fish
that had swallowed his hook, and then in fright had suddenly
239
FLOATING BUOYS AND HOOKS
started off. The boy, taken by surprise, lost his balance and
toppled into the river ; he and his fish, however, were soon
pulled out.
The following is another mode of using the fish-hook : A
crescent-shaped float of light wood (generally ambash) is
prepared, and a cord is fixed across from horn to horn ; from
this cord hangs a string with the baited hook at the end.
ANCHOllED FLOAT WITH BAITED HOOK
This float has a heavy stone fastened to it at the end of a long
cord. The fisherman goes into the middle of the river, drops
the stone anchor (to keep the float from being carried away
by the current), arranges the float and hook, and returns to
land in his canoe. As long as he sees the horns of his float
above water he knows that no fish is on the hook. When a
fish takes the bait and swallows the hook, it overturns the
float in its attempts to escape, and when the fisherman sees
the rounded bottom of his float above water he knows that a
240
CONE-SHAPED TRAPS
fish is caught on the hook. I have seen fish weighing close on
40 pounds eaught by this ingenious method.
Throughout the whole length of the river the natives use
SINGLE AND DOUBI.E FISH TBAFS
See pages 241-2
FISH SPEAR WITH DETACHABLE HEAD
large eone-shaped traps made of split canes and bamboos.
These traps vary in size from 6 feet to 12 feet in length, and
from 2 feet to 7 feet in diameter at the mouth. The sides run
straight for two-thirds of the length, and then taper off to a
241
Q
FISH POISONS
point. Inside are several partitions running in semicircles and
at an obtuse angle to the sides, so that it is easy for the fish
to enter ; but if they try to escape, the sharp, irregular ends
of the canes forming the partitions probe them, and effectually
turn them back. These large basket-like traps are weighted
and dropped into deep water with their mouths up-stream.
Some have only one smaller circle of canes arranged inside a
larger. There is also another trap having the same diameter
for its whole length, and a mouth at each end with a smaller
cone-shaped partition arranged in each opening, so that fish
coming from opposite directions can enter.
Fish-spears are of different shapes, but their hafts are always
long — from 10 to 12 feet — and tapered towards the end.
Sometimes the handles are of sticks, and sometimes of bam-
boos. The fish-spear is often a simple prong, sometimes an
ordinary spear shape, but the commonest form is the barbed —
single, or double, or triple. The two former are always tightly
fixed in their handles, but the barbed kiiid is always detach-
able, having two or three yards of string loosely wound round
the handle near to the spear-head. This allows the barbed
head of the spear to remain in the fish, and the handle to float
and show its whereabouts. I think the only reason for this
difference is that the barbed spear-heads are scarce and costly,
and on account of the detachable handles they are not so likely
to lose them.
Fish poisons are used. One was the milky juice of a legu-
minous, hairy plant, called botoko (probably Tephrosia toxifera),
which was crushed and thrown into the streamlets and creeks
and has the effect of partially stupefying the fish. The other
was the juice of the Euphorbia, named by the natives kokoiulu.
(5) The Libinza people, to whom I have referred several
times, make the largest nets, and fish in a more business-like
way than any tribe I have seen on the Upper Congo. These
nets are of a large mesh, and are made entirely of native
string. In shape the net is like a box without a lid. It is
15 feet long, about 8 feet wide, and from 3 to 4 feet deep.
242
-
rl
M
m
■1
>j
f u
^3
FISH POISONS
This is a fair average size ; there are many larger than this,
and some smaller.
Soon after dark the Libinza fishennen select a suitable place
— a sandbank with three or four feet of water on it. The net
is fixed by one end and the two sides, being tied to stakes
driven in the sand ; the other end was allowed to lie on the
bottom of the river. Having fastened the net, they form a
wide semicircle at some distance from the loose end of their
net, and at a signal they begin to beat the water with their
hands and feet, gradually working up to the open end and
driving the startled fish before them. This operation is fre-
quently repeated through the night, and as a result large
quantities of all kinds of fish are brought to the tow’n next
morning. For this kind of fishing the river must be fairly
shallow.
(6) The Basoko people have another mode of fishing by
means of a string net 30 feet long and 5 feet high. The two
ends are fixed to sticks ; along the upper edge of the net were
floats of pith-wood, and along the bottom edge were weights
of burnt fire-clay. The men go out in a canoe, and at a likely
place the net is unrolled, and one man slips over the side of
the canoe wdth one end of the net which, by means of the
stick, he fastens upright in the bed of the river ; the other
man then jumps into the river with his end of the net and
makes a wide detour — the floats buoying up one edge and the
weights sinking the other. The second man having made as
wide a detour as the length of the net permits, sweeps round
the fixed end and winds the net closely round and round,
entangling in its meshes any fish caught inside the circle of its
sweep. I have seen many fish caught in this manner.
(7) The Bopoto people have another mode, which appears
more clumsy than it really is. A light frame of poles about
8 or 9 feet square is covered with a fine mat of bamboo laths
closely woven together. One side of this frame is hinged to
the side of the canoe so that it moves freely. The two upper
corners of the frame have ropes attached to them. The two
243
ADDRESSING THE FISHERMAN
fishermen hold the frame upright while a third paddles them
into mid-stream ; then the frame is lowered by the ropes until
the top end is 12 or 14 inches under the water, and the canoe
is then allowed to drift with the current. By and by a fish
swims over the submerged net, and the men, w ho are watching,
pull quickly at their ropes, up comes the net, and down tumbles
the fish into the canoe.
It is a curious fact that one tribe never imitates another in
its principal mode of fishing. I have seen an Upper River
native make and use a cast net such as he had seen the Accra
carpenters use ; but I never saw a man of one tribe imitate a
man of a neighbouring tribe in his peculiar mode of fishing.
They have traps common to all, but each tribe has its own
principal mode peculiar to itself. I have twitted a native of
Monsembe about not following, or even trying, the successful
mode of fishing pursued by the Libinza people, and he has
replied : “ We could not catch fish like them even if we tried ;
that is their way, and we have ours.”
Fishermen while making their traps {moleke) are prohibited
from all intercourse with women, and this prohibition con-
tinues until the trap has caught some fish and the said fish
has been eaten, otherwise they will have no luck in fishing.
This abstinence may last some few weeks, or only a few days.
The Boloki folk in the old days often threw old men or w'omen
into the river to appease the water-spirits (mingoli), that they
might be more successful in fishing.
While a man is fishing, and immediately on his return from
fishing, he is called mwele, no matter who he may be. The
river is supposed to be full of spirits, and if these hear the
proper names of the fishermen they can so work against them
that they will catch little or no fish, consequently the fisher-
men desire to hide their identity under the general name of
mwele.
Again, when a man lands with his fish the buyer must not
address him by his proper name, but as mwele, or the spirits
will hear it, and either mark him as one against w'hom they
244
FIRST-FRUITS
will exercise their influence another time, or they will im-
poverish the fish just caught, so that the man’s chances of a
good price will be lost. Hence the fisherman can make the
person who breaks this rule either pay him heavy damages, or
compel him to sell the fish in the village at a good price and
thus restore his luck.
The first-fruits of a lad’s fishing are given to his nearest
relatives. When this is not possible, then other fish are given
later on. Very often a share of the first catch of every season
is similarly given to the parents or nearest relatives. A part
of the fish caught is given to the head-man of the town to
which the fisherman belongs. This was regarded as one of
the perquisites of his position, and the non-observance of
custom is bitterly resented.
245
CHAPTER XVIII
RELIGIOUS BELIEFS
Ideas of a Supreme Being — His various names — Views of the spirit life —
Fetishism — Medicine men and spirits — Black and white magic — Origin
of the term fetish — Native crusade against fetishes — Bundle of charms —
Its contents — Sacrifices to fetishes — Rise and fall of witch-doctors — An
attempt to define fetishism — Natives very religious.
WE have found a vague knowledge of a Supreme Being,
and a belief in Him, very general among those
tribes on the Congo with whieh we have come into
contact. In each case the natives’ ideas of the Supreme Being
were gathered and noted long before our teaching had in-
fluenced their views or increased their knowledge concerning .
Him. Before we could preach our views we had to learn their
language, and while learning their language we necessarily
received — in the definitions of the words we were learning
from them — their ideas of that great Being who created the
world. We found their knowledge of Him was scarcely more
than nominal, and no worship was ever paid to Him.
On the Lower Congo He is called Nzambi, or by His fuller
title Nzambi a mpungu ; no satisfactory root word has yet
been found for Nzambi, but for mpungu there are sayings and
proverbs that clearly indicate its meaning as, most of all,
supreme, highest, and Nzambi a mpungu as the Being most
High, or Supreme.
On the Ujiper Congo among the Bobangi folk the word used
for the Supreme Being is Nyambe ; among the Lulanga people,
Nzakomba ; among the Boloki, Njambe ; among the Bopoto
246
HIS VARIOUS NAMES
people it is Lihanza, which word is also well known among the
Boloki people, and was probably introduced by slaves from
Bopoto. At Yakusu, near Stanley Falls, the word used is
Mungu, which is a shortened form of the Swahili word muungu,
and this may contain the root of the Lower Congo word
mpungu. It is interesting to note that the most common name
for the Supreme Being on the Congo is also known, in one
form or another, over an extensive area of Africa reaching
from 6° north of the Equator away to extreme South Africa ;
as, for example, among the Ashanti it is Onyame, at Gaboon it
is Anyamhie, and two thousand miles away among the Barotse
folk it is Niambe.
These are the names that stand for a Being who is endowed
with strength, wealth, and wisdom by the natives ; and He is
also regarded and spoken of by them as the principal Creator
of the world, and the Maker of all things. Some think Him
so perfect in all His works that semi-sane people, crooked
sticks, and deformed persons and animals are placed to the
credit of a subordinate divinity — a demiurge called
Kombu.
But the Supreme Being is believed by the natives to have
withdrawn Himself to a great distance after performing His
creative works ; that He has now little or no concern in mun-
dane affairs ; and apparently no power over spirits and no
control over the lives of men, either to protect them from
malignant spirits or to help them by averting danger. They
also consider the Supreme Being (Nzambi) as being so good
and kind that there is no need to appease Him by rites, cere-
monies, or sacrifices. Hence Ahey never pray to this Supreme
One, they never worship Him, or think of Him as being in-
terested in the doings of the world and its peoples.
During the whole thirty years of my life in various parts
of the Congo I have heard the name of the Deity used in the
following four ways only : Among the Lower Congo people,
when they desire to emphasize a statement or vouch for the
truthfulness of their words, they use the name in an oath.
247
HIS VARIOUS NAMES
When in extreme trouble they cry out : “ I wish Nzambi had
never made me ! ” or when in great distress : “ Nzambi, pity
me ! ” Also on the Lower Congo there is the phrase lufwa
Ixm Nzambi=de&th. by God, i.e. a natural death as distinctive
from death by witchcraft ; but this view of death is not so
frequently heard on the Lower Congo as among the Boloki
people, where awi na Njambe^he died by God, i.e. there is
no witchcraft about the death of the deeeased, nor anything
pointing to witcheraft about the accident that caused the
death, is often heard. These are the only phrases which
suppose that the Supreme Being has anything to do w'ith the
world. They are generally employed in the case of poor folk
when they die, as no one wants the trouble and expense of
engaging a witch-doctor to seek out the witch.
About four years ago I asked a most intelligent native,
whose age was about 45, if he could recall any pra5'^er that
was offered to the Supreme Being (Nzambi) by his family or
any natives before the coming of the missionaries. He sat
quietly for a few minutes and then answered : “ No, but a
woman in great distress would say, ‘ Nzambi, pity me,’ not
because she thought she would receive pity, for we all believed
Nzambi was too far away to hear us or think of us, but because
it was a saying amongst us for such times of distress.”
Among the Lower Congo people the belief exists that when
there is a halo round the moon it is a sign that the Supreme
Being is there confirming the residence in that cool place —
hence state of happiness of some spirits which have just arrived ;
and when the halo is round the sun, then those who have
recently lost relatives or friends by death will tremble and
wail, beeause that halo round the sun is an indication to them
that the Supreme Being (Nzambi) is there confirming the
punishment that has consigned the late departed to the hot
place — hence state of unhappiness. There is a proverb that
shows the lastingness of this punishment: “The bad people
are tortured like a locust on the burning grass ; it wants to
die, but is kept alive.” These comprise the only ideas concerning
248
VIEWS OF THE SPIRIT LIFE
the Supreme Being that I have ever heard expressed, either on
the Lower Congo or among the Boloki natives.
On the other hand, there is a seeming contradiction of the
moon and sun theory, as stated in the preceding paragraph,
by another belief extant among the Lower Congo people, viz.
that all the souls of the departed go to a great spirit-town in
the forest, and that is the reason why burials take place at
sunset. The natives argue thus : During the day folk go to
farms, to market, to Avork in the forests, etc., and the town is
left empty ; in the evening the inhabitants have returned
from their different occupations, and are ready to accord a
welcome to any visitor ; thus also the spirit-town : all the
spirits are away at their different employments and do not
return until the evening, and if the deceased were buried
during the morning or early afternoon there would be no one
in the town to welcome him. These differing beliefs appear
to be co-existent, and the natives, if they perceive their in-
consistency, have not offered any explanation. I once pointed
out the contradictory nature of these beliefs to a smart native
Avith whom I was conversing on the subject, and his reply was :
“ Some believe one thing, some believe the other, and some
people believe both.”
Among the Boloki people there is a general and firm belief
in a spirit-Avorld, or nether region (called longa). It is supposed
to be someAvhere doAvn beloAv. From many natives I have
received the same direetion, always accompanied by the same
action and Avords, viz. they have pointed Avith their fingers
to the ground, saying, “ It is down underneath there.” In the
nether regions the conditions of existence appear to be similar
to those in the villages and toAvn, Avith this exception, that a
man may be too high in the social scale to be punished on
earth, but he cannot escape punishment in the nether regions
for the disagreeable qualities he has exhibited on earth. Within
a feAV hours of an unpopular head-man’s death, I have heard
the ordinary natives laughingly say to one another as they
have snapped their fingers in glee; “He is being punished
249
VIEWS OF THE SPIRIT LIFE
r
now.” Who allotted the punishment and saw to its' inflietion
I could never ascertain. Juries of head-men on earth sat to
decide difficult cases ; and it may be that they thought juries
in the nether region sat on cases and allotted the necessary
punishment.
The firing of guns, shouting, wailing, beating of drums and
such noises are heard in the nether regions, and give notice to
the inhabitants there of the approach of another disembodied
spirit. The louder the noise the greater is the expectation of
those in the spirit-land of seeing a great man arrive. The
spirits of the departed wait about the entrance to the nether
regions to greet the one about whose departure for their
abode so much fuss is being made.
The soul of a living person is called elimo, but on the person’s
death his soul becomes a disembodied spirit named mongoli ;
and the Boloki spirits after sojourning for a time in the nether
regions leave that place and wander about the rivers and
creeks, doing all the harm they can to the living by flooding
their villages and keeping the fish from entering the nets and
traps. The spirits of the Bomuna people, and of the bush
people generally, are supposed to roam about the forests, turn-
ing the animals from the traps and nets set to snare them,
not to save them from death, but to show their hatred of the
folk living in the towns.
Are these disembodied spirits turned out of the spirit-land
as a punishment ? Natives believe that the spirits of bad men
are punished in the nether region — by bad they mean a dis-
agreeable, unsociable, disobliging, greedy, rude, discourteous
person. The ghost of such a one will return to trouble his
whilom neighbours, and it is against his disagreeable qualities
as a man that they have to guard now that he is a spirit. There
are many stories about the doings of the disembodied spirits
— their tricks and their mode of revenge — which will be related
in subsequent chapters. The foregoing paragraphs give, I
trust, a clear statement of the natives’ ideas of the Supreme
Being and their views of existence after death, so far as I
250
FETISHISM
have been able to collect their thoughts and beliefs during a
long and intimate intercourse with the people.
We now come to a larger subject — larger beeause it holds a
more important place in the life and thought of the native —
I refer to fetishism. If fetishism is a form of religion, then the
Boloki people, like all other tribes on the Congo, are a very-
religious folk. In obedience to fetish taboo and custom they
exhibit a devotion and persistency worthy of a better cause ;
in subjection to the demands of their witch-doctors they cut
themselves, deny themselves many kinds of pleasant food,
and pay heavy fees, even to the impoverishment of themselves
and families. But all this is done through their abject
fear of the various malignant spirits who, so their medicine
men inform them, have power over them for the time being.
It may be one spirit to-day and an entirely different one next
month, according to the sickness, misfortune, or particular
kind of bad luck from which the man is suffering ; or a man
may for twenty years possess good health and good fortune,
and consequently he will need neither the medicine man nor
his rites and ceremonies ; or it may be that a man thinks
“ prevention is better than cure,” and in such a case he will
fee the medicine men to appease on his behalf such evil spirits
over whom they profess to exercise control, or to prepare for
him certain charms to destroy their wicked designs.
No single witch-doctor pretends to control all the evil
spirits, or confer immunity from all diseases, or remove all
misfortunes, or impart every kind of good luck. Hence on
the Lower Congo there are about fifty different kinds of medi-
cine men,i and among the Boloki some eighteen varieties of
them, each supreme in his own particular branch. The order
is not confined to men only, for many women are to be found
in its ranks. Some medicine men are supposed to be stronger
than others, and, controlling more powerful spirits, they
either avert greater evils or confer larger benefits, and con-
* See Folk Lore for Dec. 31st, 1910, p. 447, for a complete list of Lower
Congo medicine men and their various functions written by the author.
251
BLACK AND WHITE MAGIC
sequently receive more respect and richer fees for their
services.
It is a misrejDresentation to depict the Congo native as
“ bowing down to wood and stone.” He never worships his
fetishes ; he exhorts them to do his bidding ; he commands
them to do that for which they were made, and he is not
backward in arousing them to alertness by whistles and
explosions of gunpowder, or to activity by whacking them with
a stick.
No native of any tribe I have met ever assigned creative
powers to his fetishes, or respected them as the representatives
of a deity. The fetishes were made yesterday at his bidding
and expense by the witch-doctor, and to-morrow, if they fail
in their purpose, they will be consigned to the rubbish heap,
or left neglected on some shelf in his house. The native lives
and moves, so he believes, surrounded by evil spirits which,
on account of their own malignant natures or at the instigation
of his enemies, are constantly trying to work him harm, and
the only means known to him of counteracting the evil, or of
appeasing the malignant power, is the medicine man \vith
his powerful fetishes, charms, and ceremonies.
There are two phrases that contain the whole theory and
practice of the Congo medicine man’s black and white magic.
By the black magic he professes to incite an evil spirit by means
of a fetish to inflict a sickness or some other misfortune on an
enemy ; and by white magic, to appease the evil spirit through
the medium of the fetish, so that the sickness or bad luck shall
be removed from one’s self or one’s family and friends. The
same medicine man uses the same fetish to curse a man with
disease, or to cure the man so cursed, hence he often draws
fees from both parties.
To curse a person by the aid of a fetish is called loka e nkisi.
The fetish is beaten with a stick, informed what it is to do,
and then hung up outside the invoker’s house, and the spirit
of the fetish flies off to obey its orders. This is the simple
modus operandi followed by all the witch-doctors on the Lower
252
BLACK AND WHITE MAGIC
Congo, who invoke their fetishes to employ their various
powers against the enemies of their clients.
To soothe and appease the spirit of the fetish so that it will
remove the curse from working by so conciliating the fetish
power, or the spirit the fetish is supposed to control, that it
will work for the medicine man’s client and not against him,
is called lembola e nkisi ( = to soften, tame a fetish), and the
ceremony is as varied as there are medicine men, for each branch
of the profession has its own special rites to observ’e.
Now fetishes on the Lower Congo are either images, bundles,
or large horns, and these as a rule are owned by the medieine
men. Smaller fetishes and charms are made by them for
various purposes and sold to the natives. Sometimes a wealthy
man will buy a powerful fetish and use its power entirely for
himself ; at times a poorer man will pay a good fee to a medicine
man to borrow his fetish, or the rich man’s fetish for one or
two days, so that he may have the entire attention of the spirit
it controls. A rich man will sometimes buy a powerful fetish
as a speculation, and make a good profit by hiring it out for a
fee, and the poorer man will pay the fee, hoping to reap good
results to his bodily health or to his prosperity by having
the undivided interest of the fetish at his service.
The term fetish comes from the Portuguese word feitifo,
and the early navigators of the West African Coast were Portu-
guese, who carried with them amulets and charms, i.e. feiti^os,
in the form of crosses, beads, images, etc., that had been
blessed by their priests. And when these ancient navigators
saw the natives wearing shells filled with some mixture, or
displaying on their persons some artieles wth which they were
unwilling to part even for costly gifts, what was more natural
for them than to regard such objects as something akin to
their own feitifos ? And “ as they discovered no other traces
of religious worship they concluded that this outward show
of regard for these feiti^os constituted the whole of the
negro worship.” i
* I am indebted to F. Max Muller for much in this paragraph. See
Hihhert Lectures, p. Cl. 1878. 25*1
NATIVE CRUSADE AGAINST FETISHES
The native word on the Lower Congo for fetish (nkisi), and
among the Boloki {honganga), means an image, a horn, a shell,
a saucepan, etc., and, in fact, anything into which a medicine
man has put a part of his “ medicine ” from his store bundle ;
and it is not an effective fetish until it has been through the
hands of the medicine man and received its power from him.
No one witch-doctor makes all the fetishes, but every one has
his own speciality, in the making of which he is accounted an
expert.
On the Lower Congo the native offers periodic sacrifices to
his fetish to keep it in a good humour, otherwise through
sulkiness it may refuse to help him ; or he returns it to a medi-
cine man to renew its energies when it proves too weak for his
purpose ; he explodes gunpowder around it to arouse it to
proper alertness that it may attend to its owner’s affairs ; or
he beats it to make it subservient to his wishes, but he never
worships it, nor does he ever pay homage to it. Among the
Boloki sugar-cane wine is poured over the fetish to render it
amenable to its owner’s wishes, and it is threatened if it does
not act quickly on its owner’s behalf ; and while the Boloki
fears his fetish in a way, yet he never worships it.
“ About 1872 some natives of Loanda came through the
country preaching a crusade against fetishes of all kinds,
inducing the natives in town after town to destroy all their
fetishes, assuring them that since death and sickness came
by the exercise of the black art, which everyone fully believes,
if then every fetish were destroyed and no more made there
would be no more suffering and death. Far and wide the most
strenuous efforts were made to accomplish the destruction of
all fetishes to that happy end.” ^ In 1909 a man with whom I
was conversing told me that he as a child was shaken over
the fire during this campaign to destroy any fetishes he had
about his person. He well remembered this crusade against
fetishes, and said that when the people became ill and died
' See Dr. Bentley’s Appendix to the Dictionary and Qrammar of the
Congo Luni/uaye, 1895, on p. 849, under the word Kiyoka.
254
BUNDLE OF CHARMS
as usual, the originators of it said : “ It is because some of the
people have not destroyed all their fetishes.”
On the Lower Congo every witch-doctor has a bundle of
medicines or charms (called ebunda dia mfula) which is the
source of his power and the spring from which he draws his
supplies for making his own great fetish, and the charms,
amulets, and minor fetishes for his clients. This bundle is a
conglomeration of powdered chalk, crushed red pepper, wood
ashes, bits of the skins of strong animals, claws and beaks of
strong birds, heads of snakes, poisonous plants and beans,
various herbs, and any other mess the medicine man can collect
together. A portion of this bundle is put into the head of the
fetish image (and sometimes into the stomach), and becomes
the brains, intelligence (nkinda) of the fetish.
When a medicine man uses his fetish on behalf of a client,
he takes a little of the bundle and puts it into a horn or shell
and ties it round his patient’s neck, telling him that while
wearing it he must not eat this or that article of diet, or he
must not do certain things. In due time the medicine man
goes to receive his fee, and on receipt of it he removes the
special charm from the neck of his patient, and at the same
time takes off the taboo. If the person does not pay, then the
medicine man leaves him under the taboo, and perhaps adds
others. The Congo medicine man never has any bad debts.
No native thinks the fetish he uses is possessed of divine
power, nor does it represent a deity to him, and he uses no
language about it that would lead one to suppose that for a
moment he in his own mind invests it with divinity. What
is the fetish to him ? It is something in which a portion of the
mfula bundle has been put which has imparted to it its own
mysterious power — to him any portion of the bundle contains
the power of the whole.
What then is the bundle ? It is composed of the skins of
strong animals which are thereby represented, and their
combined strength is conserved in it ; there are pieces of the
skins of cunning animals, and their united craftiness and
255
ITS CONTENTS
cuteness are imparted to it ; there are portions of strong,
swift birds that sail on tireless wings through the air, and they
give to it their power of flight ; there are various poisonous
plants and beans that lend their qualities of harming the human
body when used against the enemy of a client ; there are
beneficial herbs and powders that are supposed to cure the
person who uses it for his recovery from a disease ; and there
is generally powdered chalk, symbolical of brain matter, that
gives intelligence to the whole mass, I do not think the native
mind goes farther back than the bundle, which contains for him
representations of all those qualities that he fears and admires,
and whose combined forces overawe him. And should he go
beyond that bundle it is only to the animals — the lion, the
leopard, etc., whom he fears ; the eagle, the hawk, and the
falcon whom he admires and wonders at for their flight through
space ; and to those plants and herbs whose mysterious powers
he dreads.
The native supposes that the medicine men have some
occult method of so mixing these qualities and forces together
in the bundle that they become active agents in flying through
the air and seeking out the enemies of their clients, or of
destroying those who are bewitching them, or of curing those
who seek their aid. All the medicine men do not have all the
skins, powders, herbs, etc., in their charm bundles, but each
procures what he thinks will make the desired combination
for his purpose. It is quite probable that the medicine men
and the more intelligent natives believe that by mixing the
skins, plants, chalk, etc., in different ways they induce different
spirits to take up their abode in the various fetishes, because
they like the mixture prepared for them, and in thus taking
up their residence in them, or being influenced by them, the
medicine men gain power over them.
This view is supported by the following considerations :
The fetish when first made is only a piece of wood and can be
bought for a few pence ; but after the witch-doctor has put
a portion of the charm bundle into it the price for it is con-
250
SACRIFICES TO FETISHES
siderable — from a few shillings to a few pounds — aceording
to what it is expeeted to do. Sacrifices are offered, not to the
piece of wood, hut to the spirit now dwelling in it, or over
which the charms in it have some influence. These sacrifices
range from an occasional drop of hlood from a frog’s foot to a
goat every new moon, the hlood of which is poured over the
fetish, and the flesh of the sacrificial goat must not he sold,
hut eaten hy the sacrificer and his family and friends — the
larger the benefits expected, the more costly and regular the
sacrifice. The sacrifices are to keep the spirits in good-humour.
The portion of the bundle put into the fetish is after a time
played out, becomes stale, and loses its power of attracting the
spirit to it, i.e. the fetish becomes ineffective, so the owner of
it takes it to a medicine man to have it refreshed by renewing
the charms from the bundle ; and then if it is still inactive,
i.e., if the owner’s luck is still bad, or his health continues
unsatisfactory, he throws the fetish on one side and tries the
fetish of another branch of the profession, thinking that the
former’s mixture of ingredients has no further power to attract
the spirit to his fetish, or the fetish does not influence the
particular spirit that is able to help him.
The Boloki medicine men have a “ bag of tricks ” made
of very similar ingredients to the charm bundle, and regarded
in much the same way. The only difference being that on
the Lower Congo the witch-doctors largely use images (called
teke^) into which they put the portions of the bundle, while
among the Boloki the fetish power is imparted to any article
that comes conveniently to hand. During fifteen years’ resi-
dence among the Boloki people I saw only two very crudely
made images in use (they are now in Horniman’s Museum),
and those I bought easily for a few brass rods, showing that
they valued them very lightly as receptacles for fetish power.
' The Kiteke people are experts in carving figures of men and women,
and many of the images so frequently found years ago on the Lower Congo
received the name teke for that reason. The Bakongo also make their own
images, but they are cruder than the Kiteke ones.
257
R
RISE AND FALL OF WITCH-DOCTORS
As already stated, there are nearly fifty different kinds of
medicine men on the Lower Congo, and about eighteen among
the Boloki. It is not to be thought for a moment that all these
medicine men sprang simultaneously into existence, or that
they are the product of only one tribe ; they are undoubtedly
the evolution of many generations, and a free appropriation
from neighbouring tribes of fetish ceremonies, etc., that
appealed to them through being made widely known by some
famous medicine man of the time. The Congo native has
always been ready to try a new fetish, hoping thereby to gain
some advantage to his fortune and health.
The following is probably the rise of many branches of the
medicine man’s profession now, or recently, in vogue : A
quick-witted, observant man noticed that a certain herb, or
a certain mode of procedure, such as massage or inducing
perspiration by steaming, was beneficial to a patient suffering
from a certain disease. If he had given the herb in a simple
way without any hanky-panky, or had done a little medical
rubbing without any ceremonies, or had given a vapour bath
without ostentatious and mysterious rites, the natives would
not have regarded him as a hona fide medicine man, and he would
have procured very little business. In order to protect his
discovery and to draw patients he surrounded it with the hocus-
pocus of fetish rites and ceremonies, and thus started a new
class of “ doctors ” that had its day. It is more than probable
that many medicine men and their fetishes have risen in power,
have had wide fame and much popular support, have then
fallen into disrepute and have been abandoned in favour of
new ones ; and, if the truth were known, as many if not more
kinds of medicine men have been forgotten than are now
remembered.
The following is an account of the rise and fall of one fetish
order in very recent years : A few years ago a medicine man
appeared in Portuguese Congo with a new fetish called nkisi
a kiniambe=the divine fetish. The witch-doctor and his fetish
■with its high-sounding name visited all the towns round about
258
AN ATTEMPT TO DEFINE FETISHISM
San Salvador. The ceremony was a form of communion
prepared with small slices of cassava, pea nuts, and palm wine.
The recipient had first to pay one string of beads for a child
and five strings for an adult, and he or she confessed all their
witchcraft palavers, i.e. all the evdl desires they had in their
hearts, for the sickness or death of anyone. After this confes-
sion the medicine man gave them a piece of cassava, a pea nut,
and drop of palm wine, and he also gave them a promise that
they should never die. When, however, the recipients died
the witch-doctor said it was because they had not made a
full confession of their witchcraft. He and his accomplices
reaped a large sum of money from the natives’ fear of death
and the promise of immunity from it ; but the medicine man
promised too much, and consequently his fetish was soon in
disrepute and quickly neglected.
While we find a dim knowledge of a Supreme Being among
all the Congo tribes, we also find co-extensive with it an
elaborate system of fetishism, which I would define as those
means employed by the Congo natives for influencing the
various spirits by which they believe themselves to be sur-
rounded, either to act on their own behalf by giving them good
luck and good health, or to act against their enemies by sending
them misfortune, sickness, or death. Their system of belief
has its basis in their fear of those numerous invisible spirits —
invisible to the ordinary man, but not to the medicine man —
which are constantly trying to compass their sickness, mis-
fortune, and death ; and the Boloki’s sole object — and the same
may be written of his near and distant neighbours on the
Congo — is to cajole or appease, to cheat or conquer, and even
destroy the troublesome spirits, hence their witch-doctors
with their fetishes, their rites, and ceremonies. If there were
no spirits to be circumvented there would be no need of medi-
cine men as middlemen, and no need of fetishes as mediums
for getting into touch with the spirits.
Theologically speaking, the Congo natives are utterly^void
of religion, for they neither worship the Supreme Being nor
259
NATIVES VERY RELIGIOUS
their fetishes as representing a deity ; but if “ the belief in
and a measure of obedience to a potent being or beings not
ourselves is an early minimum of religion,” i then the Congo
folk are very religious, for they carefully obey the taboos put
on them by their witeh-doetors in the name of their fetishes ;
they invoke the power of the spirits by exploding gunpowder
around their fetishes, and by whistling to them and beating
them ; they try to appease them by frequent sacrifices ; and
they have dances about some of the fetishes, during which
they call upon them, or the spirits they influence, to protect
their fighting-men and destroy their enemies,
* See Mr. Andrew Lang in Folk Lore for December, 19H, p. 412.
2C0
CHAPTER XIX
THE BOLOKl WORLD OF SPIRITS
Surrounded by spirits — The soul leaves the body — Dreams — Be\vitching
folk — Losing one’s shadow — Disembodied spirits or ghosts — Ghosts enter
animals — Deceiving the ghosts — Spirits of disease — Spirit of wealth —
Spirits of crocodiles— Leopards — Spirits of unborn babes — Monsters on
the islands — Forest sprites — Cloud-land folk — Spirits in spears — In
canoes— In trees.
HE Boloki folk believe they are surrounded by spirits
which try to thwart them at every twist and turn,
and to harm them every hour of the day and night.
The rivers and ereeks are erowded with the spirits of their
ancestors, and the forests and bush are full also of spirits, ever
seeking to injure the living who are overtaken by night when
travelling by road or canoe. I never met among them a man
daring enough to go at night through the forest that divided
Monsembe from the upper villages, even though a large^reward
was offered. Their invariable reply was : “ There are too
many spirits in the bush and forest.”
In the following pages I shall attempt to give, as succinctly
as possible, an account of the various spirits that trouble the
Boloki world, their powers and their limitations. The informa-
tion has been gathered from various natives in conversation
around their fires, or from talks when travelling with them by
canoe and boat ; and may be accepted as reflecting the native
opinion respecting those spirits by which they suppose them-
selves to be surrounded.
The embodied spirit or soul {elimo) is dreaded almost as much
as the other spirits. In dreams the soul visits various scenes,
and no matter how quickly the dreamer is aroused the soul
261
DREAMS
can always return in time to take its place in the awakened
person. With regard to dreams, some of the natives believe
in them, and bad dreams are often accepted as omens to warn
them against going on journeys, and fishing and hunting
expeditions that would be either fruitless or disastrous.
When a person faints, or becomes unconscious, massage with
water is used, and on the patient reviving it is said that the
soul has returned. The soul travels about to bewitch people,
and some of their charms are made on purpose to destroy such
wandering spirits. These wicked souls travelling about with
such sinister motives are regarded as witches worthy only of
death, and some of their witch-doctors reap a rich harvest in try-
ing to kill them. A seriously sick person fancies he sees a rela-
tive or neighbour in a dream, and at once believes that the witch-
soul of his relative has come to throttle the life out of him, so he
pays a witch-doctor a goodly fee to kill the prowling spirit, or
proteet him from its malignant assaults.
I noticed that the mouths and nostrils of the recently dead
were always plugged and tied, and to my questions on the
subject I always received the same reply ; “ The soul of a
dying man escapes by his mouth and nose, so we always tie
them in that fashion to keep the spirit, as long as possible, in
the body.”
The shadow of a person, his reflection in water, or in a look-
ing-glass, and more recently a photograph, is called by a word
(elilingi) that is often used interchangeably with the word
for soul {elimo). They repeatedly informed me that a “ dead
person casts no shadow,” and that therefore he has no soul, hence
to say that So-and-so has no shadow is, with them, equivalent
to saying that he has no soul, i.e. that he is dead. These two
words were frequently employed when speaking of the soul,
and also of the shadow of a person ; but the word for soul
{elimo) is never used for the shadow of a tree, house, animal,
etc., but they speak of a fallen house or a fallen tree as having
no shadow, i.e. they cast no shadows — a sign that they are
dead.
262
DISEMBODIED SPIRITS OR GHOSTS
If for some reason a man does not see his shadow refleeted
when he looks into some water, he thinks someone has taken
his spirit away, and that he will soon die. Even if at midday
he does not see his shadow, beeause he is standing on it — the
sun being absolutely vertieal at noon so near the Equator — he
will go to a witeh-doctor, who will make medicine that he may
recover his shadow or soul, I once asked a chief to sit for his
photograph a second time, and he laughingly refused, on the
ground that I had sent his soul once to the white man’s country,
and he could not let me have it again. And it was a consider-
able time before he consented to sit again.
The most troublesome spirit, however, with which the native
has to contend is the disembodied spirit {mongoU). Directly the
soul {elimo) leaves the body it becomes a disembodied spirit
(a mongoli), and this distinction should be carefully borne in
mind.
It is generally believed that the disembodied spirit of a good
man — good according to the native code of morals — remains in
the nether world {longa) ; but that of a bad man is punished
in the nether regions and driven out. Then if the spirit
belongs to a member of a bush-tribe (or to one whose family
originally came from the bush), it will inhabit the forests or
bush-lands, and unless properly appeased by gifts or conquered
by charms it will turn aside animals from the hunting-traps
and try to spoil all hunting operations. If the spirit belongs
to a member of a riverine tribe, then, after being turned out of
the nether world, it haunts the river and creeks and endeavours
to hinder successful fishing. Hence it is no uncommon thing,
when a village fails in its fishing, for the inhabitants to join
their brass rods together to buy an old man or old woman —
old and therefore cheap — and throw him (or her) into the river
to conciliate the water-spirits. Hence, also, all the care taken
by a fisherman to conceal his name while fishing under the
general term mwele,^ lest the disembodied spirit of an enemy
* The natives can give no meaning to this word, and from their use of it
to hide a name it is something like our phrase : Mr. So-and-so.
263
DISEMBODIED SPIRITS OR GHOSTS
should hear it and, recognizing him, keep all the fish from his
traps and nets.
Sometimes these spirits can be heard walking through the
forests, and the noise they make is called bie-bie ; and at times
they visit the town and cause “ a rustling in the grass roofs, as
though searehing for a place through which to drive their
spears.” The land and water are full of these disembodied spirits,
hence the timorous folk are afraid to travel by night. Certain
witch-doctors can sec these spirits, and when they are mis-
chievous they pretend to capture them and seeure them in
saucepans and calabashes.
Men may become the mediums by which these spirits hold
communication with the living, generally to the advantage of
the medium, as the following incident will illustrate : Baloli,
the head-man of his family, died, and was buried in the usual
way. Some time afterwards his younger brother, Mangumbe,
became subject to frenzies, during which his brother Bololi
spoke his oracles through him. Mangumbe admired and coveted
the wives of a certain man in his town and tried to buy them,
and failing in that he desired to exehange others for them, but
their husband refused all offers.
One day Mangumbe worked himself into a frenzy, and when
he was supposed to be under the influence of his brother’s
spirit he said that a certain man (giving the name of the man
whose wives he coveted) must get rid of his wives or they
would cause his death by a serious and fatal illness. Then
Mangumbe went to a friend and told him to treat with the
husband for the wives. The husband, now thoroughly afraid
of his wives, was quite willing to sell them at a cheaper price
than Mangumbe had previously offered for them. By this
cunning trick he became the owner of the women he wanted,
On one oecasion Mangumbe wanted to buy my arm-chair. I
told him the price as a bit of information, as I had no intention
of selling the chair. lie doubted my word. I told him that I
had heard that he held communication with his brother’s
spirit, and if he wanted to know the price of goods in England
264
At the time the picture was taken the folk were dispirited by heavy taxes and many deaths, hence the neglected appearance of the houses.
Meeting the demands of the taxes in food, etc., left them little or no time to look after their own affairs. These taxes are better adjusted now to
the number and condition of the people.
GHOSTS ENTER ANIMALS
he had better ask his brother’s spirit to go there, learn all it
could, and come baek and inform him of the prices of the various
articles. Mangumbe shook his head sadly and said : “ His
spirit cannot travel so far, it keeps just around this district
only.”
The people firmly believed that Mangumbe held counsel with
his brother’s spirit, and when he acted as a medium they were
quite willing to accept all that he said. Ordinarily he was little
respeeted by the people ; he was of mean appearance and of
petty, shabby ways, and had no command even over his own
people, and yet when acting as a medium in a seance he
was feared, obeyed, and his word received without the
slightest demur.
When a spirit is speaking through a person, who is usually a
member of the disembodied spirit’s family, the medium does
not always talk in the language of the present day, but in the
archaic language known only to the old people. When the
medium is a youngish man, i.e. one not familiar with the ancient
language, he then expresses his oracles in the ordinary speech,
but with sufficient of the archaic forms to lend mystery to the
communication.
I have seen the medium work himself into a frenzy, shout,
tremble all over, his muscles quiver, his body undulates,
perspiration breaks out on his forehead, and foam gathers
about his mouth, and his eyes roll ; and when thoroughly under
the spell of the spirit he gives utterance to oracles that are
implicitly believed by the people. All these seances are per-
formed in the open and in broad daylight, the medium some-
times sitting alone in the centre of a crowd ; but when much
agitated and swaying considerably, he has one or two of his
wives near to catch him should he fall.
Sometimes one of these spirits takes possession of a hippo-
potamus and visits the towns on the river-banks, and when
that occurs the family to whom the spirit is supposed to belong
puts a small saucepan of sugar-cane wine and a little food for
its refreshment on its nightly visit ; and as the food and wine
265
DECEIVING THE GHOSTS
are both gone in the morning (there are plenty of dogs about),
the natives assured me that the spirit in the animal had par-
taken of them. The spirit also, at times, enters a crocodile and
visits a town ; but the hippopotamus is the more common
form.
On one occasion a hippopotamus came off our beach for a
few nights. I could only hear it, as it was too dark to see it ;
but on the chance of wounding it fatally I fired in the direction
of the sound. I fired on two successive nights, and during the
next day some natives came and told me that that particular
hippopotamus was possessed by the spirit of a member of such
and such a family, and that the said spirit had sent a message
to the head of the family, telling him that he was to inform me
that I should only waste my bullets as it was impossible to kill
a spirit-possessed hippopotamus, and asking him to request
me not to fire again, as he (the hippopotamus) only wanted to
visit the town peaceably for his offering of sugar-cane wine and
food.
I told them that I would have another shot or two ; but they
assured me that I should not hit it. They did not doubt my
marksmanship, as they had seen me bring down many birds on
the wing, and they knew that I scarcely ever went to shoot
monkeys and guinea-fowls without bringing one or more back
with me. They did not doubt my skill with the gun, but they
doubted the power of a bullet to kill a spirit-possessed animal.
The hippopotamus, however, never came again, consequently
I had no further opportunity of testing the point at issue. I
was much interested in learning from this incident that spirits
not only took possession of hippopotami, but could thus com-
municate with their living relatives.
According to the native idea these spirits (mingoli) are every-
where, and are ever ready to pounce on any living person, and
either carry him away captive or inflict a disease on him, or
kill him ; consequently his life is one long drawn-out fear of
what the spirits may next do to him ; and his many witeh-
doctors, fetishes, and ceremonies are to control, appease,
266
SPIRITS OF DISEASE
circumvent, and perhaps conquer the spirits. The spirit of a
deceased enemy can inflict an illness on a family, a member of
which had wronged him when in the body. Fortunately, these
spirits are limited in the area of their operations and can be
deceived. The witch-doctor can cork them up in calabashes,
can cover them with saucepans, and when necessary, if the fee
is large enough, he can destroy them.
A man I knew well was sick for a long time with some internal
complaint, and after other means had failed to cure him he was
told by a witch-doctor that he was troubled by a bad spirit,
and he advised him to go right out of the district beyond the
sphere of its operations and remain there until he was better.
The man had no friends to whom he might have safely gone, so
he left his house at dead of night, taking only two of his wives
with him, and telling no one of his destination lest the spirit
should hear it. He went as far as he safely could from his own
town and donned a woman’s dress, and assuming a woman’s
voice he pretended to be other than he was, in order to deceive
the spirit should it search for him.
This also failed to cure him, and in time he returned to his
town, but continued to dress and speak as a woman, and every
time he ate or drank he first scattered a portion of his food
and drink behind him for the spirit to eat, and eating be ap-
peased. The food best liked by these spirits is the heart of any
animal, but it must be boiled, minced, and mixed with cassava.
The witch-doctor can see the disembodied spirits, and those
persons who have the occult power (called likundu) can also see
them. The natives tell me that these spirits are like people in
appearance — they come into view, pass, and are lost to sight
like ordinary beings. They have quiet voices, and eat monkey
peppers (amomum), and drink sugar-cane wine ; but if the
stems of the monkey pepper are put across a path the spirits
cannot pass over them. It is a curious belief that these spirits
may eat the fruit of the monkey pepper, and yet cannot step
over the stalks of the same plant. On the Lower Congo red
peppers are used for the same purpose of blocking a road to
267
SPIRITS OF DISEASE
spirits ; and in ancient Britain the red holly berries were used
for keeping evil spirits out of the huts and houses of those who
feared them.
There are indications that the sight of the spirit is very
defective, but its hearing is very keen, consequently a man’s
name is never mentioned while he is fishing, for fear the spirits
will hear and turn the fish from his traps. One would think
that if the spirits can see and recognize a fish they could also
recognize a fisherman ; but there are many gaps in native
logic.
As the spirit of a bush-man is supposed to wander in the bush
after leaving the nether world, any human offering made to
appease it is buried on the edge of the forest ; but an offering
to the spirit of a riverine man is thrown into the water.
These offerings are made with the object of gaining the good-
will of a father or grandfather ; but there is no ancestral wor-
ship, as beyond the fourth generation the ancestors are for-
gotten, or are regarded as being ineffeetive in their anger.
There is no regularity in these offerings, but they are made
when other means have failed to avert a calamity, such as the
flooding of a river, or to ensure a positive good, such as a large
catch of fish.
A homicide is not afraid of the spirit of the man he has killed
when the slain man belongs to any of the neighbouring towns,
as disembodied spirits travel in a very limited area only ; but
when he kills a man belonging to his own town he is filled with
fear lest the spirit shall do him some harm. There are no special
rites that he can observe to free himself from these fears, but
he mourns for the slain man as though he were a member of
his own family. He neglects his personal appearance, shaves
his head, fasts for a certain period, and laments with much
weeping.
Abnormal events are often placed to the credit of the spirit
of a man recently deceased. A few hours after the death of a
young man whom I knew a furious storm broke on the town,
blowing down plantain trees and working great havoc In the
268
SPIRITS OF DISEASE
farms. It was stated in all seriousness by the folk that the
storm had been sent by Mopembe, the lad’s name. We had for
dinner one day the shoulder of an antelope, the history of whieh
will further illustrate the above statement : Three days before
we had that piece of antelope on our table, Mumbamba, an
old head-man, died. After his death his relatives came from
various towns to mourn at his grave. On the morning of our
antelope dinner three canoes of men and women were coming
up-river, with the object of expressing their grief at the grave,
when they happened upon a large antelope caught in the grass
of an islet that had lodged against a fallen tree in the river. The
mourners killed the antelope, dragged it into the canoe, and
gave Mumbamba the credit of sending them an antelope to eat
as an expression of his favour ; thus spirits can send good as
well as evil upon those who are left on the earth.
We find, then, among the Boloki three words for soul, spirit,
and ghost. The first, elimo, is the embodied soul that is able to
leave the body during sleep, it visits people and places in dreams,
travels about, and performs actions, as throttling an enemy.
This, I believe, is the only word they have for soul. There is
then the elilingi, a shadow, shade, reflection that a dead man, or
dead thing, does not possess, and a living man can lose and have
restored by a witch-doctor, and this word is also used in a re-
stricted sense as being synonymous with elimo. And, lastly,
there is mongoli, a disembodied soul, a spirit, a ghost of the
bush, forest, and water that sends evil and good upon the living
— more often evil than good — which it is necessary to appease
with offerings of food, of trade goods, and of human
beings.
The natives are subject to various serious sicknesses which
they think are caused by spirits, and each sickness has its own
spirit (or bwete, plural, hence the native names i for debility,
anaemia, rheumatism, sciatica, ague fevers, and sleeping-
sickness are not only the names of diseases, but really denote
the names of those spirits responsible for sending them. They
* See Appendix, Note 5, p. 345, for the native names of the diseases.
269
SPIRITS OF DISEASE
cannot tell me from whence these spirits emanate, but the only
means of luring them out of the body of the patient is to set
up for some of them specially prepared posts, for others a
saucepan of small sticks, and again for others a saucepan of
medicine water.
For debility, rheumatism, sciatica, and ague they erect a
post (called etoli) about 4 feet long, peeled of its bark, shaped
to a point at one end, and daubed with yellow pigment ; 'this is
marked with red and blue spots, and stuck upright in the
ground with about 2 feet 6 inches showing. For the spirit
of sleeping-sickness they prepare a saucepan in which they put
small sticks, and the whole is decorated with yellow, red, and
blue spots and stripes. For the spirit of another form of sleep-
ing-sickness a saucepan of bush-water is prepared, and the pot
ornamented with various colours. The saucepan of sticks is
called muntoka, and that of the bush-water is called eboko.
The latter is broken, as described in another ehapter, by a badly
treated slave, or an ill-used wife, to obtain redress for his or
her wrongs.
These decorated fetish posts and saucepans often have little
shelters built over them which are coloured with various
paints, and every time the owner takes a meal he throws some
of his food on the roof of his house for the spirits to eat. From
time to time he pours sugar-cane wine over the posts, or into
the saucepans. There is no ancestral worship in this, but
an appeasing of the spirits of the diseases. Not to make these
offerings is to invite a return of the spirit or spirits to the
body of the owner, i.e. to have a relapse. I have known a
man to have four of these posts and saucepans. This indi-
cated that he had had several complaints, or had had his
one and only complaint wrongly diagnosed. Persons who
have never suffered from these serious illnesses, and they
are numerous, never trouble to prepare either a saucepan
or a post.
When there is much sickness in a family, not confined to one
or two members only, but a kind of family epidemic, it is said
270
SPIRIT OF WEALTH
to be caused by a spirit (named mweta) left, or sent, by a
deceased relative as a punishment for failing to observe some
fetish taboo, or for not having shown due respect for the de-
ceased when he was buried by having a proper ceremony, or
for not keeping his memory alive by occasional mimic fights on
land or water, or by the gifts of brass rods and slaves. Some-
times the family is conscious that they have properly observed
all these things, and then they know that their deceased relative
has sent the spirit of family sickness maliciously, or through
jealousy of their apparent prosperity.
These spirits, when they are troubling a family, can be driven
into animals by the witch-doctor and killed by him ; and as a
proof of his prowess he will exhibit a bleeding head, and assure
the family that they need no longer worry as he has killed the
animal which was possessed by the spirit, and it is therefore
punished, killed, and will not bother them again. Sometimes
the witch-doctor will drive the spirit into a saucepan, or
calabash, and either kill it or imprison it.
The Boloki man, like folk of other climes and colour, is not
averse to wealth, so he has his spirit for giving wealth (called
ejo). Now a man who desires to become rich pays a large fee
to a certain kind of witch-doctor, who then uses his influence
with the spirit on behalf of his client, who must in all future
gains set apart a portion for it ; but should he fail to do so, the
spirit has power to punish him. The goods are given to the
witch-doctor to pass on to the spirit.
This spirit can assume any shape it pleases, and entice a
person down to the river, where it returns suddenly to its
proper form and jumps into the river with the enticed person.
This person is then either killed by the spirit, or held at ransom
for a slave or his equivalent. How the ransom is paid no one
could tell me, although I put the question to various natives at
different times. The person thus enticed is he who has not
paid his proper dues to the spirit.
When a person has received the medicine or charm of this
spirit, and has become wealthy by its luck-giving power, he takes
271
SPIRITS OF CROCODILES
the nail-parings and hair-cuttings' of a woman and makes
medicine with them ; the woman then quickly dies, and her
spirit goes to the wealth-giving spirit as an offering for its help.
He is said to pass her on as a gift to the spirit of wealth. If
a man is saved, when a canoe is swamped and his companions
are all drowned, he is regarded as having given them to the
spirit (ejo) to save his own life. Should a man be suceessful in
fishing or trading without any apparent reason, and shortly
after his success his wife falls ill and dies, he is said to have
given his wife to this spirit as an aeknowledgment of his in-
creased wealth. The ordeal is often administered to prove or
disprove these aceusations ; but marvellous stories are told
about the wealth-giving power of this spirit, and as only rich
men can afford to pay the fee to the witch-doctor in the first
instance, the fact of their wealth fosters the superstition.
That some men are stronger than others in wrestling, and
able to overcome those who try to hold them, is well recognized
by the natives, but instead of its being an indication of greater
strength and fitness it is placed to the credit of a spirit (called
embanda). When this spirit takes possession of a man it
enables him to throw his enemy ; it strengthens the legs of
its possessor, and weakens by pain the legs of its owner’s
opponent. He who possesses this spirit is always successful
in capturing one or more prisoners in a fight, and can cause
the death of many members of any family he hates.
The word jando stands for the peculiar characteristics of
the animal to which it is prefixed, i.e. a man successful in
fishing is said to have the peculiarities of a crocodile, for this
creature is regarded as being quick in catching fish ; and a
person swift and cunning in fight and flight has the qualities
of a leopard. These qualities or spirits are not gained by eating
either of these creatures, but are proeured, for a few, from the
Avitch-doctor by some occult intercourse with the erocodile and
* This is one of the reasons why a person always hides his, or her, nail-
parings and hair-cuttings, as “ powerful medicine ” can be made with them
to the disadvantage of the owner.
272
MONSTERS ON THE ISLANDS
leopard. It is also affirmed by the natives that a person can
become so possessed by the spirit (jando) of a crocodile or of
a leopard that he will let himself loose occasionally on his
neighbours, and thus preying in spirit on them many will die.
One of the functions of the disembodied spirits is to supply
certain places in the forests, or trees, or creeks with the spirits
that are to enter unborn children. These spirits of unborn
children (called hingbongho) can make boys and girls thin and
weak, but are to be appeased by the proper kind of medicine
man preparing a suitable feast for them. These spirits are
supposed to crowd the pools in the forests, the shallow ponds
on the islands, the many creeks of the river, and even to
people the great bombax trees to be found here and there
along the river’s bank. Every family has its own special
preserves (called liboma) where the spirits are waiting for bodies
in which to appear as babies.
Next to the spirits in the terror they cause to the natives is
a mythical monster (engenenge) inhabiting the islands. He
is represented as having many heads and no body, and is
greatly dreaded by those who have to camp on the islands
during fishing and travelling ; and the natives tell many
stories of visits they have received from him. Next to this
many-headed monster is a mythical person or spirit (named
nyandembe) who is mentioned in the folk-lore stories as having
caused the death of Libanza’s father, but w'as eventually killed
by him as a punishment. He is thought by the natives to have
been very strong and rich ; but being dead he is no longer feared.
There is a race of folk who live somewhere above, as the
word indicates (6a=people, and likolo=d\iowe.), but up-river
and all the country east of them is also called likolo ; and it
is most probable that the word likolo in the above phrase had
originally that meaning, but as the natives pushed their
journeys higher and higher up the river and heard of peoples
like themselves still higher up, they removed the balikolo from
a locality beyond their district to a place above them in the sky.
These Cloud-folk are said to have tails, and are very fond
273
8
FOREST SPRITES
of ripe plantains, and in the folk-lore stories they descend on
the banana farms solely to eat and carry off the ripe fruit.
There is a legend that the Boloki people bought their first fire i
from the Cloud-folk in exchange for a young woman. Pre-
viously to that “ we cooked our food in the sun, or ate it quite
raw.” These Cloud-land folk are not regarded as spirits, but
the natives always speak of them as a great nuisance, and as
something uncanny and in possession of supernatural power.
There is a class of supernatural beings that inhabits the
forest and bush (named people of the bush). They
are often appealed to in the folk stories to decide what a
person should or should not eat ; and also to judge on a point
of etiquette or custom. They are not looked upon with mueh
dread, and no one speaks of them as having done any harm
to the folk who visit the forests. They seem to be friendly
spirits, or sprites, that are always at hand when wanted, and
they just as readily give their verdict in favour of a mean triek
as support a ruse to outwit the meanness.
When a man is under the sway of the disembodied spirit he
takes his spear and, tying some dried plantain leaves to it, he
holds it before him with his left hand ; and as he trembles
with the excitement of the spirits in him the spear shakes and
rustles the leaves until the spirits go out of him into the spear,
and it then becomes a fetish spear and his luck is bound up
in it. This spear, henceforth, may not be touched by anyone
but himself, and it is carefully guarded by its owner, for to
lose it is to fail in all his undertakings. These spirits are
passed into hunting-spears, fighting-spears, and fish-spears, and
although they are especially effectual in their own particular
line, they also have a general influence on the man’s luck. It
is also asserted that a rich man who has the spirit of wealth
{ejo) passes that spirit into his canoe, and this enables him to
make successful trading expeditions and other journeys to
his own advantage.
* See also the folk-lore story, “ The punishment of the inquisitive man,”
page 205.
274
IN TREES
I found only one tree that is supposed to have a spirit, and
that is the tree used for ordeal purposes. When a person wants
to take the rootlets of the ordeal tree (nka), he first selects the
tree, then spreads a leaf on the closed fist of his left hand, and
strikes it with the palm of his right hand. If the leaves on
the tree tremble in response, he knows the tree is strong and
fit to use ; but if they remain quiescent, it is a sign that the
ordeal property {nka) is weak and unfit for its purpose, so
another tree is sought, until he finds one that responds in
sympathy to the striking of the leaf.
The life of the native, surrounded as he is by all these various
spirits, would be intolerable, unthinkably so, were it not for
his many witch-doctors, who have power to control the
spirits, and even kill them, and his many charms that protect
him from their many malignant designs, or enlist their power
on behalf of the wearers and users of them. Which came first
— a belief in the spirits, or the witch-doctors to circumvent
them ? I am disposed to think that the witch-doctors are
largely responsible for the creation of these various spirits to
account for their numerous failures in warding off sickness and
death. With these witch-doctors, however, we must deal in
another chapter.
I
I
275
CHAPTER XX
MEDICINE MEN AND THEIR MAGIC
Number of medicine men — How to become a witch - doctor — Mayeya and
his long dive — Makwata and his talking spear — A simple trick — Female
witch-doctors — Three kinds of witchcraft — Discredited witch-doctors
— Fear of the witch-doctors.
HERE is not so great a variety of medieine men (nganga) '
among the Boloki as among the Bakongo of the Lower
Congo, nor is the modus operandi of bewitching people
and of removing the witchcraft so well defined. Among the
Boloki the medicine man is much in evidence, but he is not
regarded with much awe or respect. The office is hereditary,
and it is difficult for a person to become a medicine man who
has not already a near relative in the profession. The old
medicine man teaches his son the tricks of his trade free of all
charges ; and when a novice is considered efficient he undergoes
the following test : Something is hidden and he has to find it,
and having discovered the secreted article he must then per-
form a magic ceremony, such as killing an animal possessed by
a spirit — a trick he has easily learned from his father, and
after that he blossoms out as a fully qualified medicine man.
If a person in whose family there has been a medicine man
desires to join the profession he goes to an old witch-doctor,
and on paying a heavy fee he is taught as though he were a son,
but he must pass the usual tests as above ; if, however, a person
in whose family there has never been a medicine man Avishes
to join the profession, he is deterred from so doing by being
* Nganga means medicine man, witch-doctor, doctor, wizard, soothsayer
sorcerer, magician, etc.
276
MAYEYA AND HIS LONG DIVE
told that he must first kill all the members of his family by
witehcraft, as offerings to that spirit {mweta) of the particular
branch he desires to join. This results in the man refusing
to become a witch-doctor, and even if he were so callous as
to still wish it, his family would not allow him to proceed, as
they believe they would fall victims to his witchcraft. Thus
the secrets of the profession are retained in a very few families.
Still, I have known a slave belonging to a Boloki man become
a great medicine man by pretending to perform a wonderful
feat, which was as follows :
Mayeya, for that was the man’s name, went one day with a
lad in a canoe across the river. By and by the lad returned
without Mayeya, and on being asked where he was, the lad
replied : “ Mayeya fell from the canoe into the river, and since
then I have not seen him.”
Seven days after this Mayeya walked up from the river
into the town dressed in his best cloth, etc. The people gathered
around him asking him where he had been, and he solemnly
informed them that he had been under the river for the whole
of the seven days, consulting with the water-spirits, and that
now he was a witch-doctor. The people believed in him, and
flocked to him with cases from all the neighbouring villages,
towns, and districts, and by his many and large fees he became
so wealthy that he was able to pay ten men and two women
-—one woman is equal in price to four men — for his ransom,
and then became a slave-owner himself and a man of wealth.
One day I heard Mayeya boasting outside my house of the
seven days he had spent under the water in company with
the water-spirits ; so going to him I said : “ Mayeya, I hear you
have lived under the river for seven days.”
“ Yes,” he said, “ I have.”
“ Well,” I replied, “ I will give you five thousand brass rods ”
— the currency of that district — “ if you will remain under the
water here in front of my house while I count them.”
He answered: “ I cannot do it just now, but I will return
on another day and do it for you.” Whenever I met Mayeya
277
MAKWATA AND HIS TALKING SPEAR
after that I always reminded him of his promise to stop under
the river while I counted the rods.
The people at last used to urge him to aecept my ehallenge
and offer of 5000 brass rods. They argued with him, saying :
“ You have remained under the water for seven days, surely
you can stay under it while the white man counts five thousand,
for you know he eounts very quickly. Go and get your five
thousand rods, and then you will be able to buy two more
wives.”
Mayeya, however, put them off with first one excuse and
then another, until at last they chaffed him about it, laughed
at him, and expressed the doubt as to whether he had stayed
under the water half a day, much less seven whole days and
nights.
As he still continued to make excuses the natives lost faith
in him, his praetice fell off, and the last I saw of Mayeya was
his coming to borrow of me 100 brass rods, for he was in
difiieulties. To his request I replied : “ No, you have cheated
many people out of their money, and done to death many a
person by your false accusations of witchcraft ; I will not
lend you a single brass rod, but there are five thousand waiting
for you if you will only remain under the water while I count
them.”
I was seated one day among some natives when they began
to talk of the wonderful things Makwata (who was present)
could do in making his spear shake and talk.
Now I never laughed at the pretensions of the nativ'es, no
matter how absurd they might be, nor did I ridicule their
views, thoughts, and expressions. Perhaps that was the
reason why they spoke so frankly to me, and tried to explain
their ideas about things in general. I always dealt with them
seriously and sympathetically.
I turned to Makwata and asked him whether he could do
the wonderful things his eompanions were talking about or not.
He very emphatically asserted that he could “ make his spear
shake and talk.”
278
u:-
.5 §
S “
«2--
§*
<j
A SIMPLE TRICK
“ I suppose,” I said, “ you will stand near the spear, or put
the spear in a lot of grass.”
“ No,” he replied, “ I will stick my spear on the bank by
the river, and I will sit here.”
“ Very good,” I answered ; “ I will give you five hundred
rods if you do it.”
“ I can do it in my town,” he asserted, “ but not here.”
“ All right,” I said ; “ I am coming to visit your town next
Sunday, and will bring the rods with me.” But when I went
to the town at the appointed time, Makwata was not there ;
he had, however, left me a message to say that he would bring his
spear up to Monsembe and do the wonderful performance there.
Several weeks passed away, and while talking to some
natives on the verandah of my house I saw Makwata pass, so I
called to him and asked if he had brought his talking spear,
for the 500 rods were ready.
“ No,” he replied, “ I have not brought my spear.”
Turning to my native companions I said: “ Your witch-
doctors will never do their trieks before me, although I offer
them many brass rods ; but my wife and I will do a trick before
you wthout payment. I will put three articles on the verandah,
my wife shall go into her bedroom, and when she comes out
she will tell you whieh article you touched.”
“ Oh, no ! ” they said in ehorus ; “ she is not able to do that.”
The artieles were arranged in a line, my wife went to her
•room, one of the things was touched, and she came and pointed
out whieh they had touehed. “ Let her do it again,” they
requested. It was done again and again, until one young man
thought he had fathomed the trick, and he, with mueh excite-
ment, said : “ Mama looks through the window. Let someone
go into the room with her.”
“ Certainly,” I at onee aceeded to their request, and two
native women aecompanied my wife, and on their return the
natives asked : “ Did Mama look through the window ? ”
“ Oh, no,” the women replied ; “ she went right to the other
side of the room.”
279
FEMALE WITCH-DOCTORS
My friends were nonplussed. They could not see through
the trick, and many came in ones and twos afterwards and
asked me how many fowls or goats did I want to teach them
the trick. They never again boasted in my presence of what
their witch-doctors could do.
There are some quasi “ doctors.” Men and women who have
recovered from a serious complaint set up to cure that par-
ticular sickness. They use massage with hot or cold water,
or no water at all, and simple herbs, and there is no doubt that
they do a considerable amount of good.
There are female witch-doctors who perform the same rites
as the male ones, such as the witch-doctors who conduct their
ceremonies either enclosed in a mat or out in the open ; but
the one who cures anaemia and debility, makes the necessary
“ medicine ” for pregnant women, attends confinements, and
takes certain cases of sickness among men is always a female.
Each i& more or less famous in his own line, and with one or
two exceptions rarely goes beyond his own limits.
There is the general practitioner, who is not a specialist as
the other medicine men are. He is regarded, however, as
knowing more than the others, with the exception of the one
who performs in a mat. He uses all kinds of herbs, prepares
the different charms for warding off diseases, and cures divers
complaints ; but he never attempts to exorcise spirits or to
find witches. He is called by the natives nganga ya mono, i.e.
the medicine man who uses medicines, herbs, or charms.
His fees are comparatively small, and he is consulted in the
first stages of an illness in the hope that he will be able to
effect a cure, and thus save the larger fees demanded by other
branches of the profession.
When rain is falling, and for some reason or other it is
not desirable, the rain-doctor takes a small leaf and puts it
on the closed fist of his left hand, and extending the arm in
the direction from which the rain is coming he waves it to and
fro in a semicircle ; he then strikes the leaf with the open palm
of the right hand, and should the leaf burst at the first smack
280
THE RAIN-DOCTOR
the rain will stop in “ one paddling,” i.e. the time paddlers
paddle on one side of a large canoe before changing to the
other side — this is about twenty minutes ; if the leaf does not
burst at the first smack but at the second, then the rain will
not stop for “ two paddlings,” i.e. forty minutes, and so on ;
but if the leaf does not burst at all after repeated slaps, then
the rain will not stop for a very long time. When rain is
threatening, this ceremony is performed in order to ascertain
how long it will be before the rain will fall. If the leaf breaks
at the first blow the rain will begin to fall in twenty minutes,
and so on to two blows and three blows. They will start a
journey or remain at home according to the indications of
this performance. The lads have often asked me to postpone
a journey because the divination of the leaf predicted rain.
When a storm threatens to break during the funeral festivi-
ties of a man the people present will call the beloved child of
the deceased, and giving him (or her) a lighted ember from the
hearth with a vine twined round it, they will ask him to stop
the rain. The lad steps forward and waves the vine-encircled
ember towards the horizon where the storm is rising, and says :
“ Father, let us have fine weather during your funeral cere-
monies.” The son after this rite must not drink water — he
may drink sugar-cane wine — nor put his feet in water for one
day. Should he not observe these prohibitions the rain will
fall at once.
When it is desirable to have rain the native takes down from
the shelf some sticks which have “ medicine ” bound round
them and plunges them into water mixed with arrowroot
leaves, and then the rain will soon begin to fall. It is rarely
that they have to resort to the rain-doctor to bring rain, as
the rains fall with great regularity all the year round ; they
employ him more frequently to predict when the rain will
stop, or to stop it with his charms. On the Upper Congo
throwing salt on the fire will cause a superabundance of rain
to fall, but on the Lower Congo salt is a charm for stopping
the rain.
281
TALKING TO THE SPIRITS
When a family is troubled with much sickness or frequent
deaths the medicine man of the mat {nganga ya hwaka) is
engaged, who, on his arrival, puts some stakes in the ground
and ties a mat round them, thus making an enclosure in which
he sits while performing his ceremonies. A string is stretched
from the roof of his client’s house to one of the stakes of this
mat enclosure, and the end of the string drops inside ; dried
plantain leaves, twigs, etc., dangle from the string, and outside
the mat sit some young men and lads with drums and horns,
and the various folk interested in the rites stand or sit around.
When all is ready the medicine man enters his enclosure
and pulling the string, he shakes the leaves and the lads beat
their drums and blow their horns, and the men and women
sitting around chant a chorus in admirable time. Directly
the leaves stop shaking the drummers and singers understand
it as a sign for them to remain quiet. The medicine man then
begins to speak to the various spirits, and answers himself in
assumed voices, thus pretending to hold conversations with
them. As often as he feels tired with his efforts he shakes the
leaves, and the drums are beaten, and the folk chant until he
has recovered his breath, whereupon he starts the pseudo-
conversations again. These conversations he maintains
through the whole day (sometimes for two or three days),
but generally towards the afternoon of the second day he
comes out of the enclosure holding a bleeding head in his hand,
and assures the family that he has killed the animal in which
the troublesome spirit was residing, and now the family will
no more be afflicted with sickness and death. To vary the
ceremony the medicine man sometimes rushes out of the
enclosure into a house, or behind a house, or into the adjacent
bush as though in chase of something, and he returns with a
bleeding head, and says that he has slain the spirit-possessed
animal.
It is this medicine man who searches for the witch (moloki)
in the family of the sick one. If a layman charges another with
witchcraft the accused can demand that the accuser shall
282
DESTROYING THE SPIRITS
drink the ordeal with him ; but if this witeh-doetor eharges
a person with witeheraft he himself will not take the ordeal,
and no one expcets him to do so. The aecused must take the
ordeal alone, and should he (or she) fall repeatedly he is con-
demned, and is left either to die as the result of the large
doses of ordeal or is hung on a tree. The corpse is left unburied
— it is the body of a witch, the most hated being in all Congo-
land.
This medicine man of the mat in killing a spirit troubling
a family works hard and earns his money. After spending
several hours a day in the mat discussing with the spirits and
trying to discover which is menacing the family, he at last
decides on one, and when the right moment arrives the medi-
cine man makes a terrific noise inside the mat, as though he
were fighting for his life. Shouts, screams, derisive laughter,
whacks, thuds, and smacks proceed from the interior of the
mat, and at last the witch-doctor rushes out panting and
sweating profusely, holding in his hand a bleeding head, and
declaring that he has killed the animal possessed by the par-
ticular spirit that was troubling the family. With the bleeding
head he rushes to the river and throws it far out into the
running water. The family is supposed now to recover its
health, the medicine man pulls down his mats, receives his fee,
and departs.
What is the bleeding head ? On one occasion some of our
school lads chased one of these medicine men who came from his
mat with a bleeding head. He ran for the river, but they headed
him off, and in desperation he ran to a pool of water and threw
the head into it. The boys entered the water, and bringing it
out they found it was a lizard’s head. On another occasion
it was a rat’s head. Thus the family had paid a big fee to have
a rat or lizard killed, and the bleeding neck shown to them.
Up to that time the folk had always believed that it was some
mysterious animal which the medicine man dug up from the
ground inside his mat, killed by his occult power and threw
into the river so that it could never more harm his clients.
283
CHASING THE SPIRITS
This medicine man who operates in a mat is the most feared
and respected of all the witch-doctors. It is believed that he
can see the disembodied spirits, i.e. ghosts, also the souls of
people, and the different spirits of disease, and hold communi-
cation with them. He bottles in calabashes or imprisons in
saucepans the local spirits that will otherwise hinder the
hunters trapping the wild animals ; he makes the dogs keen
hunters with his charms and medicines ; he gives the reasons
for the floods, and indicates the best way to cause them to
subside ; and he also has very close dealings with the spirit
of wealth.
There is another class of medicine men that scorns to perform
its ceremonies inside a mat, but practises its craft in the open
before all the people. These are called {nganga ya libanda)
medicine men of the open, outside. A family suffering from
much sickness has called in one medicine man after another
without experiencing relief, and they may have had even the
“ mat witch-doctor ” and felt no better after having paid
him his large fee, so now they try again with this one who
works in the open.
He arrives dressed in monkey skins, bush-cat skins, etc.,
and well decorated with charms. Men beat drums, sing chants
and choruses ; the medicine man dances about, working himself
into a frenzy. He peers here, there, everywhere, looking for
the spirit that is troubling the family. He sees it in a plantain
tree, hurls his spear at it, but no, he misses it ; he sees it on
the roof of a house and away darts the spear, only to miss it again.
He prods his spear into the different parts of the outside of
the house, but he misses the elusive spirit every time ; he is,
however, working it towards the doorway. At last the spirit
takes refuge in the house, the medicine man springs forward
with alacrity, enters the house, darts his spear in all directions,
yelling loudly and screaming terrifically ; then a frightful cry
is heard, and in a few moments the medicine man comes out
with the blade of his spear well smeared with blood. He has
killed the spirit, or rather the animal possessed by the spirit.
284
DIAGNOSING A COMPLAINT
I have often watched this performance, and they always
killed these animals possessed by spirits in the house. I often
wondered why, and from whence came the blood on the spear.
The son of one of these medicine men told us that when his
father wanted blood to smear over his spear-head, he dug his
finger-nail into his gum and procured from thence the blood
for the purposes of this trick. On showing the spear thus
stained with blood he asserted that he had destroyed the
spirit that was troubling the family, he received his fee, and
went. The semi-darkness of the native hut rendered a trick
of this kind quite possible.
We have seen in the preceding chapter on spirits that
certain spirits cause certain diseases, and that the names of
many diseases are really the names of those spirits that are
supposed to cause them. To deal with the spirit of extreme
debility there are “ doctors,” who are always women, and these
are engaged to treat both men and women suffering from this
complaint. The “ doctor ” in dealing with this spirit dances,
chants, and shakes a rattle, until the patient says he has the
spirit {bwete) of debility stirring in him ; he knows it by the
way it jerks and sways his body. The medicine woman pre-
pares the post {etoU) and invites the spirit to go and reside in
it and not trouble the patient any more.
These female “ doctors ” attend the women of certain
totem families, whose children five days after birth have their
ears pierced ; such families are supposed to be patronized by
a parturition spirit (bwete bwa boweya) that will help the child
to grow strong, fat, and healthy if its ears are pierced on the
fifth day with the proper dance and ceremony ; but will cause
the child’s death if the mother when enceinte does not use the
proper medicines under the guidance of this female “ doctor,”
or does not have its ears pierced in the proper way.
When a man is troubled with a sickness whieh has failed
to yield to other means, or one in whose family there has been
a death and he cannot afford to hire a witch-finder, he goes
to a medicine man whose fee is comparatively small, for his
285
FORETELLING FUTURE EVENTS
operations are simple and his paraphernalia small. He, on
being hired, brings out his fetish saucepan of water, and placing
it in a good position he pours some sugar-cane wine by its side,
for souls or embodied spirits are very fond of this drink. He
then calls the spirits by putting a leaf on the closed fist of the
left hand and striking it with the palm of the right hand ;
thereupon they show themselves one by one in the fetish
saucepan {likenge), into which only the witch-doctor is allowed
to look.
A spirit appears, turns, and shows its face when challenged
to do so, and shakes its head negatively, and as the showing
of the face is regarded as a proof that it belongs to an innocent
person, it is told to pass. By and by a spirit appears in
the saucepan that persistently refuses to show its face after
being repeatedly ordered to do so by the medicine man, there-
fore he stabs it with a splinter of bamboo, and the owner of
that spirit, who is the witch, is now supposed to die very soon,
and thus release this medicine man’s client from its malign
influence. It is interesting to note that a person’s soul can be
called from him by a witch-doctor, for the word used in this
connection is elimo, and that means the soul of a living person.
It is also noteworthy that they expect more truthfulness in
the soul of a person than in the person himself.
The Boloki folk, like others more advanced in civilization,
are very anxious to know about the future, so they have a
soothsayer whose special function it is to predict coming
events. This diviner dances to the beat of drums and chants,
the chorus being taken up by all who are present. When he
has worked himself and his audience up to a certain pitch of
excitement he looks into his fetish bag of medicines, and from
what he sees there he foretells war, or the reverse, its success
or failure, and other events, such as the success or non-success
of a trading expedition, fishing and hunting parties, etc.
The natives, both male and female, are not always successful
in their love affairs, hence they have a special medicine man
who makes their love philtres. A woman takes the nail-parings,
286
LOVE PHILTRES
hair-cuttings, and chewed pith of the sugar-cane of the person
whose love she desires, to this partieular “ doctor.” He makes
them into a medicine which, after well drying, he pounds into
a powder. This powder the woman takes and blows over the
object of her love while he is asleep.
The man procures the nail-parings and hair-cuttings of the
woman he loves, and carries them to this maker of love philtres ;
but instead of the powder being blown over the sleeping object
of his passion, he mixes it with sugar-cane wine and gives it
to her to drink. A slave will use the same method to gain an
easier time from his master or mistress ; and this philtre is
also used on people to cause them to forget a wrong or grant
a request.
There are to be found among them witch-doctors to help
them in every emergency of life, and not the least curious is
the one who aids them to vanish in the midst of danger. The
medicine man who thus serves them takes his name from the
charm he makes, which is rubbed on the body, or tied on the
wrist or leg of his client, who, when thus protected, can walk
right among his enemies, and if they catch him they find only
his cloth in their hands, for the person in the cloth has vanished.
This charm (called ndemo) is largely used in times of war, as the
possessor of it can fight and kill without being seen by the
enemy, and it is also in great favour with thieves. The charm
consists of a yellow pigment rubbed on the temples, or “ medi-
cine ” mixed with the pigment and fixed to brass wire and tied
round the wrist, the leg, or the waist.
They frequently told me of the wonderful power of this
eharm in rendering a thief invisible ; but they never accepted
my challenge to put the matter to the test. I offered to allow
any one of them to keep any article he could steal in my rooms ;
the conditions were that I was to be in the room and the thief
was to take the article while I was present and yet be invisible
to me — I should simply see the thing move, apparently of
itself, out of the room. They said it could be done, but they
never proved it.
287
TREATING SMALLPOX
When there is smallpox in a district the nervous go to a medi-
cine man, who makes small cuts on his client’s body and sucks
out some blood, which he spits on to a leaf and examines very
carefully. If some small threads are seen in the blood, the
“ doctor ” points them out to the others present, and says
that “ as I have sucked out the witchcraft (likundu) the person
will not die, although he may become infected with smallpox.”
Should no threads be seen and by and by the person catches
smallpox, his relatives will tell him that he cannot recover unless
he confesses to having bewitched one or more persons. Under
pressure of constant nagging the patient will confess (and
who among them has not desired the death of one or more
enemies and acquaintances ?) to his mother, or father, or to
an intimate friend, that he has bewitched several persons,
and will even mention them by name ; and after this confession
he may become better.
It is a very crafty performance. The person’s blood is sucked,
and the threads are shown, and if he does not have smallpox,
then the “ doctor ” has the credit of having drawn all the witch-
craft out of him. If, however, he has smallpox, then he has
his own witchcraft in him and that has caused the illness, and
the only way to ensure recovery is to confess his guilt — this
exonerates the “ doctor.” If no threads are seen in the blood
and the person has smallpox, then his own witchcraft has given
it, and he must confess ; and here again the “ doctor ” is
cleared. Now if a person has not been operated upon by the
“ doctor ” and gets smallpox, he must confess to bewitching
others, and should he recover, well, his confession has cured
him ; should he die, then either he has not fully confessed, or
someone else has bewitched him to death. If a person does not
catch smallpox, then he is not bewitched by anyone, and he
himself has no witchcraft.
During an epidemic of smallpox at Monsembe in 1893 it was
absolutely impossible to isolate patients, for, according to their
belief regarding infectious diseases — that no one would have it
unless he were bewitched to have it — there was no need for
isolation. I have seen the hut of a patient literally crowded
288
A CASE OF SLEEPING-SICKNESS
with women, lads, and girls, giving advice and showing sym-
pathy with the sick. Many died from the loathsome disease.
This particular “ doctor ” also looks at the arteries in the
stomach of a dead person to discover whether the person died
by his or her own witchcraft, or by the witchcraft of another.
For full details see the chapter on “ Death and Burial,” where
it deals with death by witchcraft.
A person suffering from sleeping-sickness has his own special
“ doctor ” to look after him. He scarifies the body of the
patient with numerous cuts, and then sprinkles hot water over
him, rubs pepper paste into the cuts, and puts a drop or two
of pepper juice in each eye. This practitioner is called by the
natives nganga ya luwa — the medicine man of sleeping-sickness,
or of the spirit that causes that complaint.
There are many cases of debility, lack of energy, and anaemia
in which the symptoms are somewhat similar to sleeping-
sickness, such as drowsiness, no desire to move about, loss of
appetite, etc. Such cases are greatly benefited by the massage
of warm water and pepper paste, and by the change of scene
and life necessitated by the visit to the “ doctor’s ” village ;
and when the patients return to their own towns after four or
five weeks’ treatment, much better and sometimes quite well,
they are regarded by the natives as cured cases of sleeping-
sickness. The pepper juice in the eyes causes great agony, but
it keeps the patient awake and moving about. The “ doctor ”
puts various taboos on his patients, both as to what they shall
eat and how their food shall be cooked.
My wife had a girl about fifteen years of age who fell a victim
to sleeping-sickness. She was smart in her house-work, intelli-
gent and quick in school, and neat and clean in her person. She
gradually lost her smartness, forgot all she gained in school,
and became dirty and slovenly in her dress, etc. She also had
a temperature every morning of about 100 degrees that yielded
to no treatment. It was an undoubted case of sleeping-sickness,
but as it occurred in 1894 not much was known of the com-
plaint, and there were very few suggestions as to treatment.
Those suggestions, however, we followed, and the patient be-
289
T
SPIRITS OF UNBORN INFANTS
came no better for tonics, bromide of potassium, etc. I was
then told about this kind of “ doctor,” and finding there was
nothing really objectionable in his mode of procedure I asked
the girl if she would like to undergo his treatment. She readily
expressed her wish to be put under him, and seemed to have
great faith in him. The girl went, and I watched the treatment
with much interest. At first she brightened up under the pepper
massage, but at last she died in our house, for finding the treat-
ment failed we brought her, at her own desire, baek to our
house.
It is needless to say that I never came across a single case of
true sleeping-sickness cured by this class of “ doctors.” There
are some curious contradictions about this complaint. In
some cases there is loss of aj^petite, and in others a ravenous
hunger ; in some great drowsiness, and it is almost impossible
to keep the patient awake, in others entire insomnia ; in some
saneness to the last, but others exhibit insanity and even violent
madness.
When a boy or girl is very thin and weakly, his father kills
a monkey, or buys a large pieee of meat or a big fish and sends
for the medicine man, who has a reputation for conversing with
the spirits of unborn ehildren (called hingbongbo), and interpret-
ing their demands. On his arrival he shuts himself up in
one of his client’s houses and is heard to speak with these spirits.
After a time he comes out and tells his client that the spirits
complain because he has never given them a feast, and that if
he desires to see his son improve in health he must at once pre-
pare one for them.
The father gives the monkey, meat, or fish he has procured
ready for this demand. It is cooked and the medicine man
takes the food on a plate into the house, puts it down on the
floor and, coming out, shuts the door. After a time he again
enters the house, brings out the plate and shows that the food
has partly disappeared, and that the edge of the plate is smeared
with the food (there are always plenty of rats and mice in a
native hut). This is accepted as evidence that the spirits have
partaken of the feast, and the patient will get better as the
290
^ [Jiev. A’. //. Ki^'kland
A Charm for Increasing the Birth Rate
The scarcity of children in the Libinza Lake villages alarmed the inhabitants considerably, so they paid a large sum to a witch-doctor
to set up this fetish that their progeny might be increased.
THE WITCH-FINDER
offering has been accepted. The medicine man gives the patient
a new name — if a girl, Bolumbu, and if a boy, Loleka.
The spirits of unborn babies are supposed to be supplied to
the family preserves (called liboma) by the disembodied spirits
of the deceased members of the family. These are responsible
for keeping the preserves well filled with spirits awaiting birth.
The preserves may be a pool on an island, a pond in the bush
or forest, or a great bombax tree.
The “ doctor ” who deals with madness has simply a sauce-
pan of water in which he mixes some medicines, and the patient
immerses his face every day in it, and then he drops some juices
from plants into his eyes until the person is cured of his mad-
ness. Madness is called mokalala, and the “ doctor ” who
treats it is named by that title also — the “ doctor for madness.”
When the death of a prominent man has occurred, and the
“ doctor for witchcraft ” has inspected the entrails of the
deceased and has stated that the departed one was bewitched
to death, the family then calls in the witch-finder to point out
the person guilty of that detestable thing called witchcraft.
The usual fee is one slave, but if the witch-finder is a very
famous one he will demand and receive two slaves. He insists
on receiving his fee before he begins operations, as he may have
to rush off with undignified haste directly he has pointed out
the witch, for the accused person does not always take the
charge quietly, but sometimes rushes off for spear or gun to kill
his accuser, hence the demand for the fee first.
The people gather on the appointed day in a large circle, and
the medicine man, dressed las a woman in skins and cloths
fantastically arranged, his face, legs, and arms decorated with
pigments of various colours, takes his place in the centre and
dances throughout the whole of the first day to the beat of
drums. Towards the end of afternoon of the second day he
points out the witch, and then hurries at once to his waiting
canoe. The accused must take the ordeal and abide by the
result. The “ doctor of the mat ” very often performs this
ceremony of discovering the witch.
There is another class of medicine men who scrape their
291
WITCH SPIRITS STEALING SOULS
eyes with the sharp edge of the sugar-eane grass, whieh opera-
tion elears the vision and enables them to see spirit witehes
afar off and frustrate their evil designs. lie pretends to see the
witeh at night running off with the soul of a person, and this
soul he reseues and restores to its owner. The next day the
medieine man will go to the owner of the soul he reseued and
say : “ Last night I saw a witch spirit running away with your
soul, and I stopped it or you would be dead by now.” And then
he demands a present, which is at once given through fear ;
for if they refuse to satisfy this medicine man he will allow the
witch spirit to escape another time with the soul, and death will
be the result.
Now a man who has many and powerful enemies needs
someone to help him, and there is a special branch of the pro-
fession created on purpose to render him assistance. Such a
man goes to a proper medicine man, who will give him a medicine
that will overawe or soothe his enemies so that they will no
longer desire to work him any harm. They will become subject
to his will and influence. This medicine man (he goes by the
name of nganga if elembia=overawe, subdue, soothe) also
initiates his clients into various tricks for striking awe into the
onlookers that they may fear their power, and respect them
accordingly.
When a man is ill, or has lost a relative by death, he may
in his vexation accuse the other members of his family of ^vitch-
craft. They of course indignantly deny the charge, so the
accuser challenges them to drink the water from a fetish
bell. Should anyone refuse to drink from the fetish bell he is
regarded as guilty of witchcraft. If, however, they agree to
accept the challenge the particular kind of medicine man who
operates with the fetish bell is called, and on his arrival he gives
to each person a draught to drink from his fetish bell. And it is
firmly believed that the one guilty of witchcraft will soon die
from the effects of the bell medicine, whereas the innocent will
suffer no inconvenience from it.
It will be seen from the above-mentioned medicine men that
the natives have a medicine man to help them in every emer-
292
THREE KINDS OF WITCHCRAFT
gency of life, and also one to control, soothe, or destroy every
kind of spirit that is likely to do them any harm personally,
and bring any sort of misfortune or ill-luck upon them. How-
ever, witehcraft is at the bottom of all their fears, and it
will be noticed that the majority of the different branches of
medicine men deal with, or pretend to avert, that most
dreaded and hated thing witchcraft.
There are three kinds of witches among the Boloki people,
viz. the active, that is the person who fees a medicine man to
kill his enemy or procures some medicine to do him to death.
The passive, that is the person who in a temper, or because of
some grievance, wishes So-and-so were dead, or in a curse shouts
at his tormentor and oppressor : “ May you die quickly ” ;
but takes no active measures to procure the death of the said
person. There is scarcely a person who has not wished for the
death of one or more persons ; and when the ordeal of the
fetish bell is administered and the drinker of the “ bell water ”
has not desired the death or illness of that particular person he
feels secure ; but if he has desired the death of that person he
feels nervous, doubtful, refuses to drink the ordeal and is
accused of witchcraft or drinks it and perhaps dies from sheer
fear. The third kind of witch might be called the self-inflicted
one, that is, a person in utter misery desires to die, and the
witchcraft works in him and he dies ; the natives think that
many people die by their own wtchcraft. On the Lower Congo
I found no idea of suicidal witchcraft among the people.
I think many of the medicine men thoroughly believe in
themselves ; and even those who assert that they see spirits
or have performed such wonders as living under the water for
seven days, or making their spear shake and talk relate the
incident so often that they come to believe that they really did
it. Many of the people before we went there had no faith in the
medicine men ; but they were afraid to oppose or ridicule them
foe. fear of being charged with witchcraft, so they pretended to
accept all that was said and done by them. Our presence in-
spired many with the courage to test the witch-doctors, and
finding them frauds they turned from them with contempt.
293
CHAPTER XXI
TABOOS AND CURSES
Variety of taboos— The totem taboo — The permanent taboo — The inherited
taboo — The temporary taboo— Circumcision taboo — Canoe-maker’s taboo
— Mourner’s taboo — Cursing a wife — Taboo of sympathy — Father’s curse
on a child — Kicking a person’s foot — Various curses — Different oaths —
Giving tokens.
Taboos are the prohibitions and restrictions put on
things and actions by the witch-doctor during and
after an illness, by the family totems, and temporarily
by the individual himself. They are the “ thou shalt nots ” of
fetishism. To disobey them is to risk dire consequences to
health of body, to success in expeditions, and to one’s luck.
Among the Boloki the outraged spiritual powers are supposed
to avenge themselves on the breakers of the taboo. The taboos
send their ramifications into every part of native life, thought,
and action. There is not a single article of food that is not
taboo to someone, there is not a place that has not been
tabooed at some time or other, and there is not a possible
action that has not been, or is not, affected by taboo. When a
witch-doctor tells his patient that he is not to eat goat’s meat,
then goat’s meat to that man is tabooed, forbidden, unlawful
for that man to eat ; and should he break the taboo by eating
goat’s meat, then he believes that a serious relapse will follow
and probably death.
The taboos are many and various, but most of them fall
under the following heads : The totem taboo (called mokumbti)
is not so evident to the casual observer among the Bololi people,
294
THE TOTEM TABOO
and I might say among Congo people generally, as it is in other
parts of the world. One family that I know may not eat a
certain snake, and another may not eat fowls. If the men of
these families kill and eat their totems they will become thin
and weak ; the women will not only become thin but sterile ;
and the pregnant woman who breaks her totem taboo will be
delivered of a weak child, who will remain thin and undersized
all his life.
To another family a tree with small edible fruit (named
mwenge) is a totem. The tree must not be cut down, nor its
fruit eaten, and if by any mistake a woman of this family
burns it while pregnant she carefully saves the ashes, i.e.
instead of throwing them away she puts them in a special place
apart from the usual heap of refuse, otherwise her child will bt
born emaciated and weakly. Strange to say, the boys and girls
of the family before puberty may eat the fruit of this tree with-
out any evil consequences.
Another family has a plant with red leaves (called nkungu)
as a totem. When a woman of this family becomes enceinte
for the first time a nkungu is planted near the hearth outside
the house, and it is never destroyed, or the child will be born
thin and weak and remain very small and sickly. The healthy
life of the children and family is bound up with the healthiness
and life of the totem tree as respected and preserved by the
family. The killing of a fowl by a member of the snake family,
and vice versa, does not affect the family whose totem it is.
When a free woman marries she takes her totem with her
and observes not only her own, but also her husband’s totem.
And any child born to them takes the totem of both parents
until there is a family council of the paternal and maternal
branches, when it is generally arranged that the child shall in
future observe its father’s totem.
These notes contain all the information I could gather
relating to their totems ; and I received the impression that the
totem taboo is gradually dying out. This is also the impression
I have about the totems on the Lower Congo, where one finds
295
THE PERMANENT TABOO
only a vestige of what was once probably a potent factor in
their family life.
Then there is the 'permanent taboo (called ngili). This taboo
is put on any kind of food, as, “ You must not eat goat’s meat ” ;
or, ongoing to a certain place, as, “You must not go across the
river to a particular island ” ; or, on performing a particular
action, as, “You must always drink sugar-cane wine through
a reed, never straight out of a vessel of any kind.” This taboo
must be carefully observed by the person under it as long as he
lives or serious consequences will follow the breaking of it, such
as a return of the sickness from which the person was suffering
when placed under this taboo, or a loss of property and life,
or the sickness and death of a child.
Every kind of food is ngili to someone, and it is no uncommon
sound to hear a person going through the town crying out :
“ Exchange for piece of antelope.” That means that someone
has come into possession of a portion of antelope to whom it is
taboo, so he (or she) is trying to exchange it for fish or some-
thing else that is not taboo to him with someone to whom
antelope is not taboo.
This permanent taboo {ngili) is very frequently an inherited
one. A man has, say, elephantiasis and the “ medicine man ”
says he is not to eat cither elephant or hippopotamus flesh (both
these animals have stout legs), and the man will pass on this
taboo to his sons, who will carefully observe it lest their legs
become “ swollen like an elephant’s.”
Milk is tabooed by all and regarded with great abhorrence.
Anyone drinking it is considered unclean (bosoto) for several
days, and is not allowed to eat with his family. They may
touch milk, for they milk our goats and sheep and carry it to
us without suffering any defilement, but it must not touch their
lips. A house boy of mine was known to have drunk some
water out of a milky glass, and he was not permitted to eat Avith
his family for five days. The natives could give no reason for
this, but only stated that it was their custom. The eating of
raw eggs is also tabooed by all, and the breaker of this taboo is
296
THE TEMPORARY TABOO
not allowed to eat with his family for a few days. They eat
well-eooked eggs no matter how unsavoury they may be
through age. I may say in passing that the more ancient an
egg is the better it is liked by the native, and they do not
appreciate our preference for fresh eggs. If a native gives an
aged egg to a white man as an expression of gratitude it does
not mean that he is giving it because it is bad and worthless
to himself, but because it is to him better than a fresh egg, and
he thinks it is so to you until he learns better, and then he will
bring fresh ones.
The temporary taboo {mungilu) covers a large number of
different circumstances that, according to the native view of
life, call for a taboo. During pregnancy a woman is placed under
a taboo, generally that she is not to eat a certain kind of food —
not the same article of food to every woman, but according to
the momentary whim of the “ doctor ” — and this she observes
until the medicine man removes it either on the birth of the
child or when it is weaned, or the first time the child has its
hair cut.
Some pregnant women are told not to throw the ashes of
their fires away until their children reach the age of twelve or
fourteen. The ashes are therefore carefully gathered and put
into a special place. These women, however, belong to families
which have trees and shrubs for totems, and for fear of scatter-
ing the ashes of their totem trees inadvertently burnt they
have to put all the ashes of their fires in a particular place, thus
honouring all ashes to avert the possibility of being disrespect-
ful to the ashes of their totem trees.
A witch-doctor may say that on account of a certain sickness
the patient must not eat a particular kind of food, and the
food he may eat must be prepared in a special way, say, cooked
in forest water and not in water taken from the river. When,
however, the man is better a feast is prepared, and then all
kinds of food are cooked in the ordinary way, including the
interdicted articles, and the patient partakes of them and the
prohibitions are removed.
297
CURSING A WIFE
Lads who have been circumcised must remain indoors until
the wounds are healed, and during that time they are not to
eat the heads and tails of fish. When a man is making a canoe
he ties a piece of a cactus-like plant to the log he is working, and
while working on it he must not drink any water, otherwise the
canoe will leak. The charm also wards off evil influences and
keeps the canoe from warping. Members of a deceased person’s
family are forbidden to sleep for two or three weeks on their
ordinary beds, and must sleep on leaves spread on the ground.
After the mourning they have a drinking-bout of sugar-cane
wine, to which all the town is invited, after which they return
to their ordinary sleeping-mats on the raised frame. The pro-
hibitions on fishermen and hunters have already been men-
tioned.
Sometimes a man in a rage will put himself under a taboo.
A wife by her conduct has irritated him beyond all endurance,
and at last in anger he strikes on the ground with a stick, and
says : “ May I be cursed if ever I eat food cooked by you.”
He is now under a taboo (mungilu) not to eat food from that
woman’s hands. Such a mode of procedure will bring the woman
to her senses, for undoubtedly the taboo and curse go further
than the mere non-eating of food cooked by her. It means
that he has put a taboo on her and will have nothing more to
do with her, or the curse will come on him in the form of a severe
disease.
By and by the woman is sorry for her conduct, and begs the
husband to remove himself from under the curse by removing
the taboo of having nothing more to do with her. Should he
after a time relent, the curse is removed by the following cere-
mony, which is called reversing, or undoing, of the beating of
the ground : A trench is dug while some women sing : “ Re-
move the curse, the curse of beating on the ground ” {Bondola
bondo mohondo hondo). A spot of red camwood powder is
rubbed on the woman’s chest, or as they say, “ over the
heart,” the taboo and curse are removed and the pair are
reconciled.
298
FATHER’S CURSE ON A CHILD
Men and women to express their sympathy with a sick
parent or relative will make a vow, saying : “I wiU not eat
fowls,” or, “ I will not go to Lulanga until my father is better.”
Should the father die, then the person who made the self-
imposed taboo must not eat any more fowls, or must never
go again to Lulanga. These vows are very carefully observed,
or a disease will result from breaking them.
A person therefore can be under four taboos, viz. : (1) The
totem taboo {mokumbu) of his family. (2) The taboo {ngili),
because of a serious illness and the desire to avert a relapse.
(3) The inherited taboo (also ngili), to avoid a complaint from
which the father suffered. (4) The temporary taboo {mungilu)
of anger and sympathy.
This may be the best place in which to mention their curses,
for they are often interwoven with their taboos. A very commcn
curse employed on most occasions is to strike on the ground
with a stick, and at the same time mention the name of the
person cursed ; and the person thus cursed will have a very
bad form of dysentery, and the curser may say : “ May I be
cursed if ever I do such and such a thing ” ; thus the curser will
become subject to the disease should he break his word.
A person curses an adult relative in the following manner :
He rubs his thighs, bends down, and turns his back towards the
one to be cursed and shouts : “ Be accursed.” This is also
done in the face of an enemy as an insolent curse on them.
Early morning is said to be the best time for making it effective.
I have seen this performed several times, and the person so
cursed has hurled his knife or spear at the curser.
A father, or guardian, curses his child by words, and then
the child will neither grow properly nor become wise or rich ;
but this is only resorted to on great provocation. Should the
child become penitent and apologize for his evil ways, he takes
a large fish or monkey or a goat to his father and begs him to
remove the curse. The father accepts the present, and then
chewing the stem of a certain shrub (called munsangasanga),
he expectorates the pieces out on to the palm of his child’s
299
VARIOUS CURSES
hand, saying ; “ What I said I said in anger, and I now remove
the curse.” The child is comforted and the two are reconciled.
To kick or touch a person accidentally, while passing him,
with the foot is equivalent to cursing him. The person must
turn round and slightly kick again the person whom he touched
with his foot, otherwise bad luck, etc., will come upon the
person kicked. Where we apologize they kick again, and
the phrase used for the second kick means, “ to reverse the
effects of the first kick.” They are exceedingly careful not to
touch a person with the foot in passing — that brings bad luck,
and not to step over a person — that is an insult. A person
moving out of a sitting crowd of folk shuffles his feet along the
ground so as to avoid stepping over anyone, and will tell those
squatting around to draw their feet up out of the way so as
not to touch them.
There are other curses used by old and young alike during
fits of passionate anger, as, “ May you die by witchcraft ” ;
or, “ May you die by euphorbia poison ” ; or, “ Cry for your
mother,” i.e. May your mother die. The last is a curse bitterly
resented, and is only uttered when a person is greatly exasper-
ated. When a person is undergoing any ordeal test he re-
peatedly uses the word ngamhu, which means : “ If I am guilty,
let the ordeal work against me ; but if I am innocent, then let
my accuser be accursed and die.” The ngamhu curse is greatly
dreaded by all natives.
Promises and oaths are ratified by each contracting party
putting a curse on the other should he break his oath ; and
illness and bad luek are often regarded as due to unfaithfulness
to one’s oath. Sometimes taboos are put on one another by
the contracting parties, and so long as the taboos are carefully
observed they are reckoned as faithful to their promises and
oaths. This is specially so in the covenant of blood-brotherhood,
and to disregard the taboo is to court either death or some
great disaster. Many of their folk-lore stories are illustrative
of the evil consequences resulting from the breaking of blood-
brotherhood taboos.
300
GIVING TOKENS
Oaths are freely used by the Boloki in their conversation,
and such liars are they that they feel it necessary to back their
statements with, “ I swear it ” (ndai). The commonest form
of oath is, “ Cut my throat ” {tena nkingu), and is always accom-
panied by the speaker wetting his finger and drawing it across
his throat. “ By my mother ” {nta mama), and “ By my father ”
{nta tala) are very strong oaths and are felt to be binding on
the user of them, otherwise disaster will follow if the state-
ments to which they are affixed are not true, or the promises
to which they are attached are not fulfilled. “ Truly so, by my
mother ” [hwele unko mama), and “Truly so, by my father”
(bwele unko lata), are not regarded as being so strong as the
former two, but they infer that the speaker pledges himself
that his words are true, otherwise his mother or father will
suffer.
A piece of stick, tin, or anything handy is cut into pieces, and
each combatant or disputant takes a portion as a token that
all matters of dispute are finished, and he who again starts
one of the old quarrels calls down a curse upon himself. This
cutting of a token [iena ndanga) is also done by the party who
loses a case. He gives a portion of the cut token as an earnest
of the payment of expenses, and of the fine imposed by those
who judged the case, and if he does not redeem it he is under
a curse and will suffer accordingly.
301
CHAPTER XXII
NATIVE CHARMS AND THEIR USES
A general name — No sacrifices to them — Preventive charms— Thief s charm
and antidote — Charm for rendering the ownerattractive— Helpful charms
in war — Modes of dealing with witchcraft — Certain charms for certain
spirits— For success in fishing— To detect a murderer— To preserve goats
in health — Giving ordeal to a son.
HE general name for fetish, charm, amulet, talisman.
mascot, etc., is bonganga ; and this is also the word
for the skill or art of the medicine man — that which
constitutes him a member of the profession. It is, howev'er,
difficult to decide whether this skill arises from his own inherent
intuitions or is imparted to him by his own powerful fetish —
the word bonganga favours both views. The prefix “ bo ” can
indicate the thing into which a medicine man has put his'power,
hence a charm, fetish, etc. ; and it also denotes a noun of
quality, and thus points to the skilfulness, art, etc., or that
quality by which the witch-doctor is able to perform his magic.
It is very probable that both views are necessary for a complete
understanding of the word — it is a thing into which the medicine
man has put his power, and it is also the skill, art, power, etc., by
which he imparts it and by which he works as a witch-doctor.
No offerings are presented to charms, and there is no mode
of refreshing them as on the Lower Congo ; but when a charm
does not act as it should the owner takes it back to the medicine
man to have some more “ medicine ” put into it, as it is thought
that the old has beeomc ineffective through being played out.
Images are not used among the Boloki, but various artieles are
employed to conserve the fetish power imparted to them.
302
NO SACRIFICES TO THEM
The charms belonging to the witch-doctors have been handed
down from time immemorial and the various “ doctors ” make
the amulets, charms, etc., for the people. The larger the fee
the more powerful the charm.
In writing about the Boloki charms it is very difficult to
classify them, for they so frequently overlap each other in their
operations. I have collected the names of a large number of
their charms, etc., and when describing some of them I shall have
to repeat a little of the information given under the heading of
“ Medicine Men and their Magic ” ; but I will avoid more repeti-
tion than is necessary to put the reader in touch with the
supposed powers of the charm.
There are those charms that hel'p them in dire distress, and
among the most potent of them is the ekando, which really
means a snag hidden under the water. The owner of this
charm can cause a snag to break the canoe of his pursuing
enemies. In the excitement of a chase the paddlers do not
always look where they are going and will run on a hidden snag,
and the impact will split the canoe and the charm has the credit
for it. Many trees topple from the bank into the river, and by
and by the jagged end of a large branch will be just under
water as the river rises and falls, and this favours the belief
in the powers of the ekando charm. I have been nearly thrown
out of my canoe two or three times from running on a covered
snag, and they are a source of considerable danger to river
steamers.
The owner of this charm has the power also to call on the
hippopotami and crocodiles to help him when hard pressed
by his foes. Hippopotami quite unintentionally, in coming up
to breathe, overturn a canoe ; and crocodiles have the trick of
coming up suddenly by the side of a canoe and causing the
paddlers to start so violently that they upset the canoe. The
crocodile takes a man and goes off.
Another charm with curious power is the “ fetish axe ”
(ekoko). The possessor when desirous of eluding his enemies
takes the “ axe ” in his hand and beats an island with it, where-
303
PREVENTIVE CHARMS
upon the island splits and he passes through the opening, which
at once closes behind him, and he is safe. The numerous creeks
and inlets favour this superstition.
Another charm on much the same lines as the two already
mentioned, is the jelo or sandbank. The lucky owner of this
charm, when escape from the enemy is otherwise impossible,
will take a handful of sand and throw it towards his pursuers,
and a sandbank will immediately form and stop their progress
until the owner of the jelo charm is far beyond their reach. The
innumerable and ever-changing sandbanks in the river favour
this belief.
On one occasion the folk were much troubled by steamers
calling at Monsembe, the crews of which took every oppor-
tunity of robbing the people. The natives therefore decided
to employ this charm by making a series of sandbanks across
the channels, thus preventing the approach of steamers. I
informed them that we were expecting our steamer the Peace,
and they must not shut her out or we should run short of pro-
vision and barter goods.
“ We will leave an opening for your steamer,” they assured
me as they continued the ceremony.
A couple of days afterwards a State steamer came in sight,
the very kind of steamer they wanted to keep out. “ How did
that steamer pass your sandbanks ? ” I quietly asked.
“ Oh,” they replied nonchalantly, “ some mischievous boy
must have bewitched our line of sandbanks and caused several
openings.” I have never found them lacking a loophole out of
difficulties of this kind.
There are various preventive charms to maintain them in
good health, to ward off the return of a sickness, preserve them
from wounds, and to protect their property. A cross stick on
uprights (called mokando), rubbed with red camwood powder
and arranged with a noose to catch witches that try to enter a
house or village, is regarded as a health-preserver to a household
and to a community. Or a medicine man can take certain stalks,
or anything else to hand, and after putting a charm into it he
304
PREVENTIVE CHARMS
can lay it along or across any path, and neither witch nor dis-
embodied spirit desiring to commit evil in the village will be
able to cross this charm {jeko) into the village.
A forked stick {mutumu) is carried by a man who has had
rheumatism as a charm against the return of the complaint ;
but if the stick is touched by anyone else, or broken, the man
will have a serious relapse. A brass ring with a few wood
knots threaded on it, or a piece of string with knots tied in it,
are both used for curing and for preventing diarrhoea, especially
in children.
The mpeie is a charm to preserve the owner from being
wounded in a fight, but for it to be effective the owner’s wives
must remain faithful while he is at the war. This name is also
given to the brass ornaments on a State officer’s helmet and
uniform, as the natives when first they saw them thought they
were charms worn by the white men to preserve them from
wounds, and not as decorations or insignia of rank. There is
also a charm that is supposed to render the owner invulnerable
to all weapons used in fights and quarrels.
A native does not own very much property, but what little
he has he desires to keep, so there are charms for that purpose.
A plantain stalk bound with the proper medicine is a charm to
preserve its owner’s canoe from being swamped in a storm.
It is not necessary to have it (the mokombe) in the canoe at the
time, for it can act throught any reasonable distanee of space.
The python charm {nguma) is regarded as a powerful charm
for protecting wealth and slaves ; and should either be lost
it has the reputation of restoring them quickly to their owner.
There is a general charm {nseka) for preserving property from
robbery and destruction. It is made of anything according to
the preference of its user, as shells, leaves, skins, etc. Such a
charm is frequently carried through the town to notify that
something has been stolen and to bring a curse on the thief,
and then it is partly made of the same material as the thing
stolen. Charms are placed round the farms to mark the boun-
daries of a field belonging to one woman from that of another,
305
u
THIEF’S CHARM AND ANTIDOTE
and also to protect the produce from thieves. The charms then
employed seem to be almost anything ; but those most fre-
quently seen are large univalve snail shells, bivalve shells like
mussels, pieces of cactus, bits of rags, old calabashes, etc.,
these are all tied on sticks stuck in the ground and the charms
dangle to and fro in the breeze.
When a woman runs away, her husband takes her nail-
parings and hair-cuttings, which he has gathered for this and
other purposes, to a medicine man, who puts them into a skin
with medicine and returns them to him. The husband with
this charm in his possession takes a leaf, spreads it on the
closed fist of his left hand and strikes it with the palm of his
right hand, and says : “ If my wife stops to eat at the place to
which she has run, let her die quickly.” The same ceremony is
performed to ensure the return of a runaway slave, or to inflict
harm on anyone with whom the owner of this special charm
(named likunda) has quarrelled ; consequently natives care-
fully destroy all their hair-cuttings and nail-parings so that no
one may gain power over them.
The thief has a charm — a simple yellow pigment — to rub on
his temples to help him steal cunningly and successfully ; but
if a man desires to protect his property from this kind of thief
he procures a very long, broad-bladed knife with curved points,
and on this he smears stripes of yellow pigment, and then a
serious sickness will come upon the robber who steals from the
owner of such a powerful charm (named lingundu). This
charm is also used for two other purposes : when it is put near
the door of a sick man it will kill the witch that tries to enter ;
and a medicine man also uses it to cut the soul (elimo) in half
to cause the death of his client’s enemy. As the yellow pigment
renders the thief invisible, so it also renders the knife invisible,
so that the witch not seeing it blunders on it and fatally cuts
itself ; and the soul cannot see it, and can be executed by it
when in the hands of the witch-doctor.
How does a native account for a man (or woman) being
successful in his undertakings, fortunate in his circumstances,
n06
HELPFUL CHARMS IN WAR
and acceptable and popular with folk generally ? Well, the
secret of it is that he has a charm (named montala) which
operates powerfully in his favour. It is a bundle, a horn, or a
hollow piece of bamboo with medicine in it. It renders its
owner very attractive to women, to slaves, and to the people,
and thus he is successful. Handsome, healthy, prosperous men
are supposed to be what they are on account of the benefits
bestowed by this charm.
When a son or daughter is about to leave home for another
town, or to travel and trade, the father or near relative chews
the leaves of a certain shrub, spits them out on to another leaf
and mixes some camwood powder with the mess, and the son,
or daughter, has to rub a little of this mixture {makaJeo) on his
body every day, otherwise he will not find favour with those
among whom he may live or travel. Neither a son, nor a
daughter, will travel without his charm. The ingredients of
the love-charm, or philtre, have already been given (see the
chapter on Medicine Men), and also the methods of effectively
employing them.
It is also necessary, according to the native view of life, to
have charms to help them in war, in rows, and among their
enemies. There is a class of charms that enables them to go
into the midst of their foes and yet eseape, although they
wish to capture them. By one charm the native bewitehes
the enemy ; by another he excels the enemy in craftiness and
cunning ; by another he overawes and fascinates them so that
they forget their hatred ; and by another he becomes invisible
to them. Each man patronizes his own particular charm, some
having more faith in one than in another. There is also a
charm, specially procured from a spirit and costing a goodly
fee, that always enables its owner to capture one or more
prisoners in a fight, and then helps him to disappear with his
captives if too closely pursued by the enemy. The mud-fish
is called njombo, and this name is given to a charm that imports
the slippery characteristics of the eel-like mud-fish. The owner
of this useful charm is as difficult to hold as an eel, and conse-
307
CHARMS FOR CERTAIN SPIRITS
quently it is much in demand by fighters and thieves, as it
enables them to slip out of the hands of their captors.
Witchcraft plays a large part in native life, therefore we find
among them various means of finding witches and counter-
acting their malignant powers. The simplest and cheapest
method is to give a drink of water from the fetish bell to the
suspected persons — the innocent are not hurt and the guilty
one dies. Then there are the fetish saucepans of water used
by the medicine men, in which the witches and evil spirits are
supposed to appear and those proved guilty of witchcraft are
destroyed. In each case the different spirits are called to the
ordeal of the saucepan by the witch-doctor putting a leaf on
the closed fist of his left hand and striking it with the palm of
his right hand. If the leaf bursts, the spirits have heard and come
at his bidding ; but if the leaf does not break after three smacks,
he desists, as the spirits are recalcitrant. When he wants a
particular spirit he calls its name as he strikes the leaf.
When there is much sickness in a family the medicine man
of the mat is sent for and he, after studying the matter, saj’^s :
“ There is a charm working against the family.” He erects his
mat to form an enclosure and goes through a ceremony of much
drumming and chanting, and by and by digs a hole inside his
mat and gets out the charm (named ekundu), which is a sauce-
pan containing animal and fish bones and brass links.
The pot and contents are said to belong to the evil spirit of
a deceased relative who desires to trouble the family. The
brass links, one or more, represent those members of the family
who have been done to death by the evil spirit (mweta) since the
decease of the wdcked relative. (The medicine man knows how
many have died in the family since the death of the said relative.)
After removing the malignant charm from the ground, the evil
spirit of the departed one has no more power over the family.
Sometimes this ceremony is performed in the open, but it needs
more cunning to deceive the spectators.
There are three charms that are regarded as being very
acceptable and pleasing to the spirits of disease, so much so,
r308
Photo by\ \^Rcv. R. H. Kirktaud
A Bopoto Fetish ensuring Good Health to Twins
When twin« are born the placentae are put into two old saucepans that are then raised on forked
sticks and placed on cither side of the road leading to the village. This is a sign to passers-by that
twins have been born, and to destroy any evil influences entering the town that might harm the
twins.
FOR SUCCESS IN FISHING
that by a little persuasion the medicine man can coerce them
to leave their patients and take up their residence in the charms
provided for the purpose. The medicine man procures a four-
foot post, removes its bark, shapes it bluntly at one end, and
paints it yellow with spots of red and blue. This charm {etoli)
is erected near the house of the person who is suffering from
either debility, or rheumatism, or lumbago, or ague fever, and
the spirit of the com2daint goes into the post, and in order to
keep it there, i.e. to avoid a relapse, the man throws some food
on the roof, protecting the post from the weather, for the
spirit to eat, and pours some sugar-cane wine over the post for
the spirit to drink, and occasionally a little camwood powder is
rubbed on the post to keep the sj^irit in a good humour. As
these charm-sticks are the resting-places of spirits, the nicer
they are made the better satisfied will the spirits be to reside in
them instead of troubling the patient.
Besides the charm-post there are two charms made of sauce-
pans for receiving the spirits of disease and holding them in
pleasant captivity. They are both decorated with spots of
yellow, blue, and red. One (the eboko) is simply filled with
water from the bush, and the other (muntoka) has a number of
small sticks in it. The former is used for retaining the sijirit of
a virulent form of sleeping-sickness, and the latter for that of
a milder type. In both cases food, drink, and camwood are
supplied to the spirits residing in them ; and small roofs of
grass are built over them to protect them from the weather.
Especially in the case of the coverings for the saucepan charms,
the protecting shelters look like miniature huts, and a casual
observer could easily believe that they have something to do
with ancestral worship, whereas they are simply the dwelling-
places of disease-giving spirits, and are charms to protect their
owners from having serious relapses.
When a man is very unsuccessful in spearing fish, although
his opportunities have been good, he thinks that this lack of
success is due to a pregnant woman in his family who has not
performed the rites called mumbamba, in which small cuts are
309
TO DETECT A MURDERER
made on certain parts of the body and camwood powder and
medicine are rubbed into them. When this ceremony is ob-
served his luck will change, so he thinks. If, however, he cannot
discover such a woman in his family, he believes that there is
one who is hiding the fact, and consequently the charm is
against him. This is often a way of covering one’s ill-success.
Murder is a very rare occurrence among the Boloki, i.e.
secret murder. I never heard of a case during the fifteen years
I was with them. Open fights and murder were not at all
infrequent, but I suppose that there must have been cases of
secret murder, or they would not have a ceremony (called
moselo) for detecting the murderer. This fetish ceremony is
performed in two ways : (a) A relative takes the nail-parings
and hair-cuttings of the murdered man to the witch-doctor,
who makes some medicine with them, after which he says that
the man was murdered by someone in the village. A
saucepan of water is taken and placed on the ground in the
said village, and eaeh inhabitant holds his or her hand over it,
and the one whose shadow is seen at the bottom of the sauce-
pan is the murderer, (b) The nail-parings and hair-cuttings of
the murdered man are rolled in palm gossamer, tied and laid
on the ground, as representing the unknown murderer, in front
of the witch-doctor, who says : “ If this man eats, or drinks, or
walks in this country again, let him be cursed by this ceremony.”
Then the witch-doctor brings his knife down and cuts the
bundle (moselo) in half. If shortly after this a person becomes
suddenly ill of a serious complaint and dies, he is regarded as
guilty of the murder, and his death is taken as a proof that the
spell has worked.
When cassava roots arc dug up from the farm they are put
into a water-hole to soak for a few days until they become
soft. Should a woman find that her roots are being stolen from
the hole she takes a piece of gum copal, and fixing it in the cleft
of a split stick she puts it on the side of her cassava hole, and
at the same time calls down a curse on the thief. Should the
thief be a man he will henceforth have no luck in fishing.
310
TO PRESERVE GOATS IN HEALTH
and should it be a woman she will have no more success in
farming.
Every canoe before being launched for the first time is struck
on the stern by the maker or owner with his axe, “ to take away
the weight.” It will then be light to paddle, easy to beach or to
launch, for its dead weight has been removed by the blow with
the axe.
There is no distinct word for evil eye, but one person is able
to bewitch {loka) the farm of another so that the produce,
maize, cassava, sugar-cane, etc., will not grow. To counteract
the effects of this bewitchment the owner of the farm calls a
■witch-doctor, who knocks a stake into the farm, and if a person
is bewitching the farm the stake is supposed to enter that
person, and she or he will soon die unless they abandon their
wicked designs.
When through this same form of witchcraft goats die off, or
will not breed, the owner seeks someone who for a consideration
will look after them, and the owner will then 'pretend to sell
them to him, so that the one who is bewitching them will stop
his evil practices, as they now belong to someone else. It often
happens that the goats being removed to new pastures become
more healthy and breed, and this is sufficient proof that some-
one was formerly bewitching them. If, however, the owner
cannot find anyone whom he can trust to look after his goats he
calls a medicine man, who takes a young palm, splits it into two
equal parts, and places one on each side of the road ; and then
when the witch-spirit comes that way and passes between the
pieces of palm it will become sick and die.
The general belief is that only one in the family can bewitch
a member of the family ; and who will go to the trouble of be-
witching one of his own family unless he is to benefit by the
death of the bewitched person ? And who benefits by the
death of a father or a brother ? Why, the son or a brother.
Consequently, when father is very ill, the son is regarded with
suspicion, and after trying all other means, such as calling in
the various medicine men to drive out the sickness, the patient
311
GIVING ORDEAL TO A SON
will, as a last resort, give his son the ordeal, but not enough to
kill him. Should he vomit it he is innocent, that is proved
beyond doubt and no harm is done ; but if he does not vomit
the ordeal, and becomes dazed and stupid — well, he is simply the
medium by which the occult powers are working on his relative,
and the ordeal will clear sueh dangerous powers out of his
system, and being no longer able to work through him as a
medium the father or brother will recover. The lad is tended
until the effects of the ordeal drug have passed away, then he
is warned not to allow his body to be used again for such pur-
poses and he is set free ; and he is looked upon by his play-
mates in the village with as much curiosity as a boy just out
of hospital with a broken leg. The boy’s excuse is, and it is
readily accepted by all, that he was full of witchcraft and did
not know it.
I know a case of a cheeky urehin who received a box on the
ears from his uncle, and the youngster turned round and said :
“ I will bewitch you.”
Shortly afterwards the uncle fell sick, and in spite of remedies
and “ doctors ” he continued ill ; but at last he made the boy
take the ordeal, and not vomiting it he was considered guilty
of bewitching his uncle. The boy was well thrashed, and his
father had to pay 200 brass rods to the medieine man for
administering the ordeal. This punishment was inflicted not
because the ordeal proved that the lad was guilty, but because
of his insolent threat, and to teach him to let other folk alone.
The uncle pulled up his houses and went to live at the other end
of the town beyond the lad’s influence.
This uncle soon after married another wife, who had a young
brother who was a scholar in my school. One day the uncle
came asking me for this lad that he might give him the ordeal.
I refused to hand him over for such a purpose, and “ Besides,”
I said, “ he does not belong to your family,” for I had not heard
of the marriage.
“ Yes, he does,” the man replied ; “ I have married his
sister, and he is bewitching me through his sister, who is now
312
GIVING ORDEAL TO A SON
my wife. My nephew, who took the ordeal some time ago, says
that he has passed on the witchcraft to my young brother-in-
law.” It thus appears that a mischievous boy can say that he
has passed on his witchcraft to another lad and so bring trouble
on that youngster. This uncle was continually bothering me
about these lads, and at last, to avoid further trouble, I sent
them, with their full consent, to work on one of our other
stations many miles down-river, and the uncle was much re-
lieved.
The uncle in his new locality surrounded himself with many
charms, but he did not live many years. He was not physically
strong, and every charm he possessed was to guard him from a
complaint, or to preserve him from witchcraft.
313
CHAPTER XXIII
DEATH AND BURIAL
Three causes of death — By act of God — By another’s witchcraft — By one’s
own witchcraft — An explosion — Decorating the corpse — Fee to view
the body — Smoking the body — Making coffins— Three kinds of graves
— Killing slaves — Burying women alive— Signs of mourning — The nether
world — Suicides — Funeral dance for a man — Dance for a woman.
HERE are three eauses of death well reeognized among
the Boloki : To die by an aet of God ; to die by
another’s witeheraft ; and to die by one’s own witeh-
eraft. On the Lower Congo the first and seeond eauses of
death are aeknowledged, but I never heard there of a person
dying by his, or her, own witeheraft.
In eases of aeeidental death, as eaused by the swamping of
a eanoe in a storm, they say that God has eaused the death.
There is a eertain amount of fatalism in this statement ; but
other aeeidents in whieh they observe what they consider
exceptional circumstances, as the upsetting of a canoe by a
hippopotamus or by a crocodile, they place to the account of
witchcraft. Thus a canoe swamped in a storm is “ an act of
God,” but a canoe upset by a crocodile is “ an act of witch-
craft,” as no crocodile will upset a canoe unless it is told to do
so by a witch, or unless a witch has gone into the creature and
compels it to commit the outrage ; therefore it is necessary
to discover the witch and punish the person who harbours such
an evil spirit. The word for sorrow is nkele, which really means
anger, indignation, and the idea is that they are “ angry ”
that their relative has been done to death by the witch. I
tried very hard, but I found no other word for grief, sorrow,
etc., at the death of anyone than this word nkele or anger — a
very suggestive sidelight on the native view of death.
314
BY ONE’S OWN WITCHCRAFT
On the death of a sick man the body is opened, and the
arteries connected with the liver are examined by a witch-
doctor, and if they are full, or only one is empty, then the
deceased was bewitched to death, i.e. he died by witchcraft
{awi moyengwa) ; and consequently someone is accused, and
the ordeal is administered to one person after another until
the guilty party is discovered, i.e. until someone succumbs
to the ordeal, and falls intoxicated by it to the ground.
There is another view of death held by the Boloki folk, and
expressed in the phrase awi na likundu, which means that the
person died by his own witchcraft, or he (or she) tried to kill
someone else by witchcraft, and the other person’s protective
charms, etc., were too strong, and it has resulted in the be-
witcher’s own death. The word likundu literally means
smartness, craftiness, skill, occult power, being too clever.
The witch-doctor decides the matter, for he holds a kind of
post-mortem on the corpse, and if the arteries near the liver
are empty, then the man died as a result of his own witchcraft.
If one artery only is empty, that counts for nothing and is
disregarded, but if four or five are empty the witch-doctor
says : “ That,” pointing to one, “ is the secret power by which
he so skilfully made canoes, or worked at his smithing ” (accord-
ing as the man was a canoe maker or blacksmith) ; “ that one is
the power by which he was successful in fishing ” (or hunting,
and so on); “and that other one is the power by which he
bewitched people, hence someone with stronger occult power
has overcome and killed him, or he has died by his own witch-
craft.”
If only one artery is empty, that is allowable, as a man must
have skill to do ordinary things like other folk, but if several
arc empty, then he had more than his share of cleverness, or
occult power, and no one pities him in his death.
The following is an illustration of the wide-reaching effects
of witchcraft among the natives of Africa : Some years ago
the steamer Matadi was lying off the English Trading House
at Boma, and one night the whole town was aroused by a
315
DECORATING THE CORPSE
terrific explosion. It was found on investigation that the gun-
powder on board the s.s. Matadi had exploded, and two or
three white people and forty “ Kroo boys ” (men engaged on
the Kroo coast to work the cargo) were killed. During the
inquiry that followed it came out that the “ Kroo boys,” while
searching the hold with a naked light, had accidentally set fire
to the powder. Many months afterwards we heard incidentally
from other “ Kroo boys ” that a big witch palaver had been
held in the Kroo country and over fifty people had been done
to death for bewitching the “ Kroo boys ” to death on the
s.s. Matadi by causing the explosion of the gunpowder by their
witchcraft. The Kroo coast is many hundreds of miles from
the Congo, and the probability is that not one of those who
died by the ordeal in the Kroo country had ever been in Congo-
land.
Relatives attend the sick and nurse them faithfully ; and it
is a sign of true friendship to visit a sick acquaintance, or to
send regularly and inquire after his health. The women are
so fond of attending the sick, i.e. sitting in the house, suggest-
ing charms, remedies, etc., and giving advice, that they often
neglect their farm work and various duties.
When a man of any importance dies, those who arc expert
in the art of decorating corpses attend and decorate the body
with coloured pigments, beads, cowry shells, and fine cloth ;
and the artists charge two brass rods per person to view the
body. The family su])ply the cloths, pigments — arnotta dye,
chalk, red camwood powder, blue and j^cllow earths, beads,
shells, bottles, and looking-glasses. The figure is often fixed
in a sitting position with a bottle in one hand, as though
drinking, and a looking-glass in the other, as though he were
admiring his decorations. They aim at posing the figure in
as natural a position as possible, but the effect is ghastly on
a civilized mind.
The artists give their time and skill to the family for a small
fee, and take as their perquisites the brass rods paid to view
the picturesque (?) corpse. The side of the house is removed
316
A Method of Beheading on the Upper Congo
This scene was arranged for the photo. In the real thing a sapling is pulled over and the rope
tied, so that when the sapling is released it springs up and draws the neck of the victim taut.
SMOKING THE BODY
to give more light on the body, and the wall removed forms,
with several mats, the screen enclosing the decorated corpse.
People come from miles around to view the sight, and the more
original the pose the richer the harvest of brass rods gathered
by the lucky artists. The pigments and barter goods on a
decorated body cost approximately 1000 brass rods, or about
£3, a very large sum for these people, but from their point
of view it is worth the expenditure, for by giving the deceased
such a fine send-off to the nether regions they give no excuse
to his spirit to trouble them later with diseases and misfortune.
As a rule the body is buried within three days after death,
and by that time it is very necessary. When, however, for
various reasons — as lack of means to provide a good funeral —
it is not convenient to bury the deceased so soon, they take
out the entrails and bury them, place the corpse on a frame,
light a fire under it, and thoroughly smoke-dry it ; and in this
way they are able to keep it for a more convenient time — this
may be a matter of weeks, and even months. The dried body
is tied in mats, put in a roughly-made hut, and a fire is occa-
sionally made under it. Another mode is as follows : The body
is tied in mats and buried in an ordinary but shallow grave,
a big fire is made on the top of the grave to dry up the moisture
in the body, and to preserve it. At a more suitable time a
coffin is made and the corpse buried properly ; this is called
likaku.
Coffins are often made out of old canoes by men who go
about the district for that purpose. Considering the material
and tools they are w'ell made, the various pieces fitting closely
together.
These native “ undertakers,” on arriving at the plaee where
their services are required, put up a fence of mats so as to
make a private workshop. They charge so much for the job
and are kept in food and drink, and any dogs, goats, etc., that
push open the mats and enter the workshop are liable to con-
fiscation if their inquisitiveness causes them to persist in
entering after they have been driven away twice.
317
THREE KINDS OF GRAVES
The coffins are sometimes lined and covered with cheap
cloth, but more often they arc stained with arnotta dye and
ornamented with yellow and blue pigments. All the materials
are supplied by the family. Clumsily-made native nails, or
wooden pins, are used, unless they can procure nails from the
nearest white man. Sometimes the parts arc laced together.
Poorer folk are rubbed with oil, and red camwood powder,
bound round with cloth, and tied up in a mat ; and those who
are very poor are simply tied in their sleeping-mats ; a corpse
is rarely thrown into the river or bush.
When the time for burial arrives the coffin is carried round
the town on exhibition, then the corpse is placed in it, and men
convey it to the place of interment, followed by relatives,
male and female — not wives — friends and townsfolk generally ;
the wives remain behind to continue the mourning. A person
often dies away from his house, and sometimes away from his
town. The body is brought home and buried — if a free man
or woman — in his or her house ; but a slave is buried on the
edge of the bush, or in any convenient place.
The graves are of three kinds : (1) When the grave is dug
deep enough a cutting is made at the side in which to lay the
corpse so that the earth does not press on the body, thus :
GRAVE FOR A WEALTHY MAN
318
KILLING SLAVES
(2) A notch is cut in the earth along the two sides about two
feet from the bottom of the grave, and planks or sticks are
laid aeross after the body is put in position, and the earth is
thrown on the sticks. (A and B are notches or ledges to take
planks or stieks.) By this means also the earth is kept from
contact with the coffin.
GRAVE FOR A WEALTHY SIAN
(3) An ordinary straight-sided hole, and the earth put on the
body. 1 and 2 are for important men — those whose families
can afford to pay for a coffin, and they do not want it spoiled
at once by having the clay — generally very wet — thrown on
it ; and No. 3 is for the common people.
There is no special time for burying, and no particular position
for the grave and corpse. I have known them to bury their
dead at different times, in the morning, afternoon, and evening.
Mostly bodies are buried in one or other of the houses (or very
near to them) belonging to the deceased, consequently the
position of the grave depends on whether the house runs east
and west, or north and south, or whether the row of houses
owned by the deceased is parallel or at right angles to the river.
In the old days it was the custom to kill two slaves and put
319
SIGNS OF MOURNING
one under the head as a pillow and one under the feet of the
corpse. In every family of importance there was a slave wife
who went by the name of mwila ndako, and it indicated that
she was to be buried alive with her dead husband. If, however,
this wife had a child before her husband died, then another
woman took her place — a young woman was generally selected
for this doubtful honour. The number of wives buried in the
grave was in proportion to the man’s wealth and importance,
but he always made certain of one — the mwila ndako. We were
able eventually to persuade them to abandon this custom,
but it was not until we had gained their confidence and good-
will by long residence among them.
A man while mourning for a relative or a wife wears rags,
or an old string fish-net, and allows his body to go unrubbed
with oil and camwood powder. Utter disregard of one’s
personal appearance is a sign of great grief for the departed.
At times men wear women’s dresses instead of their own in
token of their sorrow, and they shave off only half the hair of
the head, or tie the hair up in little bunches or knots and
shave the hair off the spaces between the knots ; and some
rub their bodies with clay. The modes are many and
various, according to the nearness or remoteness of the
relationship. In some cases they exhibit real sorrow, but
in the majority of cases there is more noise and show than
true grief.
Rarely does a man give way to crying ; and if his dearest
friend dies (not his relative) he exhibits no sign of mourning,
not because he does not feel sorry, but because he does not
desire to attract attention to himself as a person who mourns
for one who is not his relative. It would be most unusual,
and besides, if he has signs of mourning about him, the folk
will be constantly stopping him and inquiring of him which
of his family is dead.
During the first few hours after a woman’s death nearly all
her female relatives and neighbours cry as though their hearts
are broken ; but the next day they commence dancing, and
320
Photo by] Itiiv. R. H. Kirkland
Head-man and his Wife
This man was, to some extent, responsible for the transport of State goods and messages between
Nouvelles Anvers on the Congo and Bosisera on the Lake. The woman has the spiral rings on her
legs, and her feet are greatly swollen by reason of the heavy rings.
► f ' < ■*!
-I
THE NETHER WORLD
continue to do so at short intervals for five or six days. The
husband hires a professional dancer to act as master of the
ceremonies.
Upon the death of a man his widows ery and drink water
mixed with clay, either dress themselves in a few leaves or strip
themselves absolutely nude and rub dirt on the body (some-
times only half the body is covered with clay and the other half
left its natural colour, giving a very grotesque appearanee to
the mourner), then taking something belonging to their late
husband they parade the town in pretended seareh for him.
After the funeral they sit in their houses, or inside a rough
grass screen, for five or six days, until the sister of the deceased
man gives them permission to leave their houses, and then for
about six weeks or two months they walk only in the “ bush,”
and if they hear anyone coming they hide, and during this time
they may not walk about the to^vn. Then for another three
months they wear long, untidy-looking grass cloths. If their
late husband was a great hunter, then the widows will not eat
meat during the period of mourning ; but should they during
this period “ live well,” the deceased man’s sister or daughter
will upbraid them for not mourning properly, and the folk
in the town will regard them as callous, hard-hearted women,
and the public opinion of the distriet will condemn them. The
new widows are not supposed to go to the farms or engage in
any of their former oecupations, and as their visits to the farms
are very irregular their supply of food is meagre, so they are
said “ to fast ” during the period of mourning. At the end of
the mourning and fasting they wash, don their better dresses,
and are distributed among the heirs of their deceased husband,
i.e. among his sons.
At the funeral of a man there is more or less firing of guns,
according to the importance of the deceased. This they say
is to ensure for him a good entrance into the nether world, a
place situated somewhere below. The departed spirits in
the nether world, hearing the firing, gather about the entrance
to welcome the new arrival. Some say that the spirit of the
321
X
FUNERAL DANCES
deceased “ hov’^ers near the entrance ” (others say “ near to
the body,”) while they decorate the body, dig the grave, kill
the slaves, prepare the wife who is to accompany him ; then
comes the firing, the entrance to the nether world, and the
welcome. If the deceased was a great fighter the family
arranges a sham fight in his honour, and these sham fights
occasionally take place for two or three years.
The names of the dead are freely mentioned for a few weeks
after death, and such names are even passed on to children
if there is any likeness of the child to the deceased ; and some
natives have a misty idea of the possibility of the re-birth of
the deceased in the child who bears the likeness.
If a slave commits suicide his master will throw his body
into the river ; but a free man who commits suicide is buried
in a shallow grave with little or no ceremony, because he has
died by his own hand. Suicide, however, is extremely rare
among the Boloki. Women are buried with the same cere-
mony as a man, and in accordance with their position in the
town.
There are two dances that should be mentioned in connection
with their funeral rites : The first is named ehala. Directly
a man of any position dies the family orders sugar-cane wine,
which takes a few days to prepare in any large quantity. As
soon as the wine is ready a large hardwood drum is beaten,
and the men and women dance for three days and nights, or
as long as the wine lasts. Lines are formed and a man leaves
the line and advances, and a woman leaves the line opposite
and advances to within a yard of the man, there they wriggle,
shuffle their feet, shake their bodies for a few moments, and
return to their places, and another couple advance, and thus
all down the line over and over again. It is a Regular wake,
accompanied by much drunkenness and immorality — the
former openly, the latter under cover.
The second dance is muntemhe, from nicmbe=stQms of
cassava plants. When a woman dies who is held in much
honour by the other women in the town as a good farmer, one
322
FUNERAL DANCES
who has taught them much and frequently about farming,
and under whose leadership they have been successful in their
operations, the other women will, a few days after such a
one’s death, form a procession, decorate themselves with
leaves, bvigs, and creepers, and dance and chant her praises
through the town. At the close of the dance they go in a body
to the farm of the deceased woman and hoe and plant a large
patch of cassava for the use of her family. The family supplies
the dancers with sugar-cane wine for this festivity.
In 1890 I saw in Bonjoko — a town just below Monsembe —
the entrance, 6 feet by 8 feet, to a house paved with skulls ;
and it was customary not only to use skulls in this way,
but also to put the skulls of enemies at the base of palm
trees and to use them as foot-stools. The desire was, by these
indignities, to insult the fallen enemy and to maintain some
hold on the spirits of those slain in war that they might attend
their conqueror in the spirit land.
323
CHAPTER XXIV
NATIVE DISEASES AND THEIR
TREATMENT
White and black magic — Albinos — Causes of disease — Those easy to
diagnose— Non-professional healers — Discovering a troublesome spirit —
Various remedies— Cupping — The clyster — Ligatures for snake-bites —
Snake-men — Rubbing things out of a patient — Ignorance of physiology
— White man’s difficulty — Dangers of buffalo-hunting — Ravages of croco-
diles— Escaping crocodiles.
HE medicine man’s white magic, i.e. those means
employed for curing the people of their mental and
bodily ailments, may, to us, seem foolish and inadequate,
but there is nothing to condemn in its practice except that it
often deceives the people. Whether the medicine man deceives
himself — believes in himself or not — is another matter.
Undoubtedly, through generations of inherited knowledge
concerning herbs, etc., they possess some remedies that do
their patients good ; and there are many faith cures — the
results of an implicit belief in the medicine man and the means
he uses. I have noticed that the Congo medicine man cures
just that class of ailments that the different branches of “ faith
healers ” cure in Europe and America.
The Congo system of white magic is founded on quackery,
but like quackery in other parts of the world the remedy
sometimes meets the disease, and such successes are remem-
bered and talked about, while the many failures are forgotten.
Black magic, i.e. those means employed for inflicting pain,
misfortune, and death on an enemy, is to bo found in all parts
of the Congo. Although black magic is so widely practised,
324
ALBINOS
yet it is condemned by the natives in as strong language as
that used by the white man. Every native condemns it in
everybody else, and excuses it in himself. Those who practise
it must do so in secret, or the hatred of the village and the
district will fall upon them.
In the Appendix will be found a fairly complete list i of the
diseases from which the people suffer. In addition to the
complaints there mentioned, the natives suffer from stomach-
ache, toothache, soreness of gums, sympathetic buboes, ulcers
caused by jiggers (chigoes), etc., the children from wind,
teething, convulsions, etc.
There are rare cases of albinos {yetne), and they are regarded
with respect, and although they marry, yet there are many
women who, through fear, refuse to have them. The skin is
a dirty white with a distinct tint of pink in it. The hair is
curly and very light, with a glint of red, and the eyes are red
and intolerant of light. Albinos are somewhat repulsive look-
ing, and one is glad to turn the eyes quickly in another direction.
Those I have seen were men, well developed and healthy
looking, except that the skin had a pimply rash on it, which
may have been due to the strong rays of the sun on a delicate
skin. They suffer considerably from the direct rays of the
sun on their skin, probably as much as a white man would
suffer who had to go about in tropical Africa in a nude condition.
Among the people there are cases of auburn hair, but the
eyes are not different from those of other people. With the
exception of supernumerary toes and fingers, the deformities
I have seen have been due to disease. People with a sore on
the under part of the heel often walk on the toes, or side of the
foot, so long that at last they are unable to walk properly.
The Boloki attribute diseases to several causes, such as
broken taboos, curses, witchcraft, to disembodied spirits
{mingoli), to the spirits of disease (mete), i.e. those spirits that
give individual complaints, to those spirits (mieta) that give
family complaints or epidemics, and to the spirit (ejo) of wealth,
' See Appendix, Note 5, page 345.
326
EASY TO DIAGNOSE
which inflicts severe diseases, and when the sufferer dies he
(or she) is regarded as taken by this spirit, or, as sacrificed to
the spirit of wealth.
The general name for medieine is mono, and it may mean a
daub of simple pigment on the affected part, a poultice of
leaves, or a complicated coneoction that has taken a long time
to prepare and some thought to arrange.
It will be seen from a study of their diseases that they fall
into two classes : (1) Those of which the symptoms are ob-
servable and easily diagnosed, as diarrhoea, insanity, etc. ;
and (2) Those of whieh the symptoms are difficult to diagnose,
as great debility, sleeping-sickness, etc. The former are
regarded as simple sicknesses, called bokono ; but the latter
are put to the credit of the various spirits, or to the malignant
influence of witehcraft. When the sickness is simple {bokono),
herbs are employed, medicines prepared, and taboos imposed
on the patient ; when, however, the illness is caused by one
or other of the spirits, then a medieine man whose work it is
to deal with that partieular spirit is called. The functions of
the various witch-doctors have already been described, and
also of the spirits that either send or impart diseases. Some
sicknesses are especially regarded as the result of breaking a
covenant and falling under the curse that follows, as dysentery ;
or as the result of a broken treaty, as wounds and death in a
fight ; or as the consequences of a wife’s unfaithfulness while
the husband is away at a fight, as severe wounds.
During my residence among the Boloki, although many
folk submitted to the ordeal for various reasons, and among
others for bewitching people, yet I heard of only one or two
taking it for bewitching a person to death. The verdict
generally given by the witch-doctor is : He died by his own
witchcraft while trying to bewitch someone else. And many
a time I have heard the friends of the deceased protest against
this charge — for they considered it an insult to the memor)’^
of their departed friend — and insist that he died “ by an act of
God.”
326
Photo hy] \lhe Author
Method of Securing a Prisoner ^ Boloki Woman Dressing her Husbands Hair
The taller lad tried to escape from his master, but was captured and It is one of the duties of a wife to comb out and plait her husband s hair,
handcuffed. The smaller lad, whose loyalty wasundoubted, was a slave of Sometimes she shaves the head, forming crescents, squares, diamonds, etc.,
the same master. For several weeks they were fastened to each other. according to the pattern in fashion at the time.
DISCOVERING A TROUBLESOME SPIRIT
In simple complaints medicines are prepared from herbs
for inward and outward applications, fomentations are applied,
and massage is employed, and in many cases charms and
amulets are supplied to the patient. In the more serious kinds
of illness, as smallpox, dropsy, etc,, a person who has recovered
from the sickness very often sets up as a healer of the same —
for who knows better how to cure an illness than he (or she)
who has had it ?
These healers of specific diseases are not witch-doctors,
nor are they, by the natives, respected as such ; and if
they fail to cure, the patient is removed to a medicine man
as the last resort. The fees of the former are as moderate
as a quack doctor’s compared with the fees of a professional
man. Of these healers there is a large number, and it is im-
possible to give an outline of their practices, for each follows
his (or her) own method, and tries to keep that method a secret ;
and even when fomentations or herb decoctions are used, the
ingredients are known only to the compounder. Simple
massage is a favourite operation, and seems to be much enjoyed
by the patients ; and its curative qualities are not placed to
the credit of friction, warmth, or magnetism, but to the fetish
power of the rubber.
As stated above, most of the diseases in the list are regarded
as 6oA:ono= simple sickness, illness, complaint ; and it is only
when they do not yield to ordinary, simple treatment that
they are viewed more seriously as the result of witchcraft, or
possession by one or other of the spirits, e.g. an ulcer shows
itself, and is treated with fomentations, etc., but it happens
that the ulcer spreads and drains the strength of the patient ;
a medicine man is called in, and the cause sought for either in
witchcraft, the breaking of a taboo, the operation of a curse,
or in the malignant action of a spirit. The complaints called
debility, sleeping-sickness, very bad rheumatism, ague fever,
or boils, are supposed to originate in one of these ways, and it
is the object of the medicine man to discover in which way, in
order to use the right means.
327
VARIOUS REMEDIES
The witch-doctor beats his drum near the patient, talks
excitedly, chants various phrases, the sense of which the people
often do not understand, but the lilt of the metre, together
with the rhythm of the drum, causes the patient to sway to
and fro and has an hypnotic effect on him.
When he is worked up to the right pitch the medicine man
asks him : “ Have you eaten anything ? ” i.e. Have you
broken a taboo ? The patient takes no notice.
“ Have you done anything ? ” i.e. Have you broken a
covenant and so come under a curse ? is the next question,
but the man takes no notice.
“ Arc you bewitched ? ” or, “ Are you bewitching any-
body ? ” To these questions no answer is given.
“ Have you a spirit (bzveie) ? ” The patient jerks and
twitches his body, beats his arms, and sways more vigorously,
and thus it is known that the sufferer is possessed by a certain
kind of spirit.
The next thing is to discover whether the spirit is that of
debility, sleeping-sickness, etc., and that point being decided
by the jerking of the patient’s body as the questions are put
to him, the medicine man proceeds to make the necessary
charms and put the man under the proper taboos. The whole
of this ceremony of diagnosing a patient’s case is called mohalu.
There are modifications of this ceremony in which only
rattles are used, and not drums, and many women sing and
shake rattles round the patient, who lies in the middle of the
ring, well anointed with oil ; or there may be only a few
present, and the drum is beaten and the patient taken inside
a mat enclosure with the medicine man, but the principle is
the same.
The following are some of the remedies employed : Kuta is
to heal quickly the cuts of a badly wounded man by placing
him on a shelf and lighting a fire under him, so that the smoke
enters the wounds. Ngele are leaves for drawing boils and
abscesses to a head. Moteba leaves are boiled and rubbed on a
person suffering from sleeping-sickness. Longele=a, brass
828
LIGATURES FOR SNAKE BITES
rod ; some medicine is tied to a brass rod, and it is then worn
to strengthen the arm or the leg — some wear it for rheumatism.
Makulu maiuki leaves are good for sores and wounds, and the
juice of the leaves is dropped into sore eyes to heal them ; and
some eat the leaves to induce pregnancy. Makalala are small
sticks of powerful “ medicine ” for soothing the violently mad.
There is a word, yengola, which means to kill or drown a person
who is too ill to recover.
Cupping (nyunya) is often practised. Sometimes it is simple
bleeding by snicking the part affected, and at other times it is
cupping proper with horn and suction. The part to be bene-
fited is cut with a knife, and the large bottom end of a horn,
which has a hole at the small upper end, is put over the cuts.
The operator puts a pill of clay or soft wax into his mouth,
sucks at the hole, and with his tongue puts the wax pellet
over it. This he repeats until the air in the horn is exhausted,
and then the blood will run freely from the cuts.
The clyster (called njango) is used for relieving pains in the
stomach. A calabash is filled with water in which some herbs
have been boiled. The patient lies on his stomach and a reed
is inserted, and the liquid in the calabash is poured into the
reed ; but sometimes they use a calabash with a very long neck,
and this is inserted, and the liquid allowed to gravitate into
the bowels.
Ligatures are tied — one above and the other below the
wound — for a snake-bite, some bitter plant {bololo) is given
to the bitten person to chew. A medicine man also “ scrapes
the wound to remove the teeth left by the snake.” There are
persons, and even families, who handle snakes with impunity,
and these are supposed to possess snake medicine. Such a
person is called if the patient is suffering severely from a
snake’s bite, and on his arrival he and the bitten person clasp
each other’s right wrist, and the snake-man will beat the other’s
arm to drive the poison (ngenge) from him into himself. I
have never heard of a death from a snake-bite, but I have seen
nervous people very much scared after being bitten by a snake.
329
IGNORANCE OF PHYSIOLOGY
There is another mode of curing a sick person called howa.
The patient lies on his back and the medicine man, taking a
saucepan of boiling water, kneels by the side of his patient.
He shakes some leaves over him, dips his hand into the water,
rubs the stomach of the sick one, and in a short time shows a
palm nut, as having come from the patient. This performance
is repeated again and again, and each time a palm nut, or a
stone, or a piece of iron is shown as coming from the patient,
and is taken as evidence that the sickness is being expelled.
Natives endure the heat much better than the cold. The
palm-oil and red camwood powder used so freely as a cosmetic
protect their bodies from the direct rays of the sun, and are
also, I believe, a protection from the cold air and light showers
of rain ; but a really cold, sunless day seems to crumple them
up, and they lose all energy. Blood-poisoning is very rare,
and wounds from knives and spears heal rapidly.
The natives are practically ignorant of physiology, and their
firm belief for generations that diseases are due to witchcraft
and evil spirits has kept them from making any progress in
the study of that science. I remember many years ago a man
coming to me complaining of an acute pain in his side, which he
regarded as the presence of an evil spirit in him. After due
consideration I thought it was probably due to a touch of
pleurisy, and administered a flying blister (a lotion applied
with a feather) to the place, and told him to go to bed. Early
next morning the man came hurrying to me, and pointing to
the blister that had come up in the night, he said : “ White
man, look where the evil spirit has come out.” He thought
that as all pain had gone, and there was a blister over the place
where it had been, the evil spirit had come out there, and
the blister was the result of its exit.
One of the greatest diffieulties we encounter on the Congo
is that of diagnosing a disease. The natives have never been
in the habit of describing their symptoms, consequently when
we commence medical work in any new district we are at a
great disadvantage, and it takes long training before the people
330
DANGERS OF BUFFALO-HUNTING
will clearly state the nature of their pains, or anything that
will really help us to diagnose their complaints. While in
the language we find the names of a large number of diseases,
yet it is very poor in words describing symptoms, and this
paucity of symptom-words arises from the fact that for cen-
turies the witch-doctors, in their own interests, have fostered
the belief that complaints are caused by evil spirits which they
alone can drive out of them. Not only is there this lack of
words describing symptoms, but there is a reticence on the
part of the patient to explain his pain, etc,, as he thinks that
the “ doctor ” who has any pretension to healing a person
should certainly be able to discover what is wrong. Their
witch-doctors do not closely question their patients, but at
once proceed to the cure ; why, therefore, should the white
man make so many inquiries ?
On the Lower Congo we have a large number of gun acci-
dents. The cheap, common guns, the barrels of which are
usually made out of old gas-pipes, frequently explode and do
much damage to the firer. Occasionally during the hunting
season one hunter mistakes the rustling in the grass made by
another hunter as the movements of an animal, and fires in
the direction of the noise, only to find, when too late, that he
has wounded a fellow-hunter. Very often when crawling
through the grass after game the hammer of the gun catches
in the grass, and in pulling it free the gun goes off, and the
man behind receives the full charge into his body, and the
lifeless corpse is carried back to the town ; or, if severely
wounded and not dead, the man is brought to us for treatment.
Both on the Lower Congo and the Upper there are serious
accidents from buffalo- hunting — more to be dreaded than
leopard-hunting. One case brought to us on the Upper Congo
was that of a man who had fired at a buffalo which took refuge
in a clump of trees. He thought, after waiting a time, that he
had killed it, but on venturing to investigate too closely the
infuriated, wounded animal came out at him and tossed and
tumbled him about in its rage as a cat does a mouse. It was
331
ESCAPING CROCODILES
at last frightened away by the hunter’s companions, and when
they brought him to us it took me nearly an hour and a half
to sew him up and bandage his many wounds — he querulous
and abusive all the time, complaining that I was giving him
more pain than the buffalo did. He, however, made a good
recovery and was duly grateful.
On the Upper Congo the crocodiles inflict the greatest
damage on the natives. Here is a canoe with a few folk pad-
dling quietly along, when a crocodile shoots up by its side so
suddenly that the occupants are startled, and leaning too
much to one side to get as far as possible from the ravenous
jaws, they upset the canoe, the brute takes one and goes off.
There is much wailing, a charge of witchcraft, and perhaps
another death is the result.
A considerable amount of fishing is done by the women in
the shallow waters, and while they are thus busily occu-
pied the crocodile has its opportunity. I have often met
women who have asked me for medicine for wounds on their
legs, and on looking at them I frequently found that the wounds
were teeth marks. On inquiring how they came by them, their
answers, generally given nonchalantly, were always the same :
“ A crocodile caught me by the leg while I was fishing.”
“ How did you escape from the creature ? ” would be my
next question.
“ Oh, I rammed my thumbs into its eyes,” was the invariable
reply, “ and it let me go, and I was able to escape.” And
suiting the action to her words the woman would turn round
and show me how it was done. It needed great presence of
mind, and undoubtedly those who did not possess it were
carried off ; and those also who were caught in such a way
that it was impossible for them to turn, were dragged under
water, drowned, and eaten at leisure.
One morning a woman left Monsembe in a small canoe to
fish on the shallow bank of a neighbouring island. As she
had not returned by sunset about twenty men came to borrow
our large canoe that they might go in search of her. About
332
Photo by\ [Rev. C. J. Dodds
The Author Doctoring a Crocodile-bitten Hand
The native was working at a log in the river running by his village when a crocodile came up by
the side of the log and caught his hand.
ESCAPING CROCODILES
9 p.m. they returned, and by their shouts in the distance we
learned that they had found the missing woman. On landing
her we discovered that she was severely wounded with crocodile
bites — the worst case I had ever seen. We set to work to
clean the wounds, and sewing up some we bandaged her and
left her as comfortable as we could for the night. We after-
wards heard the story of her adventures.
It appears that while fishing she saw a crocodile coming
for her, so she ran for a tree, and as she climbed the brute
raised itself and snapped at her, tearing her fingers, her thighs,
and legs, but not getting a sufficient grip of her to pull her
down. There she sat, wounded, bleeding, and faint with
hunger and loss of blood, through the long day, with the croco-
dile lying in wait at the foot of the tree. Occasionally she
cried out, but there was no one near enough to hear her shouts.
She at last heard the paddles of the canoe and the calls of the
men, and, responding to them, she guided them to the tree
where she was sitting. As the men neared the tree they heard
the splashing of the water as the brute made off in the darkness.
She fully recovered, and after a time seemed none the w'orse
for her painful experience.
At Boma I saw the skin of a crocodile that measured 25 feet
long. The trader who killed it showed me twenty-two brass arm-
lets and anklets, weighing 11| lbs., that had been taken from its
stomach, a proof that in the course of its life it had killed and
eaten several people. But there are times when the laugh is
on the other side. A colleague of mine fired from a steamer
at a crocodile that apparently was asleep on the sandy bank
of the river. The bullet struck the head, and as the beast did
not move everybody thought itwas killed. Some of the steamer’s
crew jumped into the water, swam ashore, and just as they caught
hold of the tail to turn the creature over preparatory to cutting
it up, the crocodile regained consciousness (for it had only
been stunned by the bullet grazing the top of the head) and
started for the river. Such a tug-of-war was never witnessed
before — there was the crocodile struggling to gain the water
333
ESCAPING CROCODILES
and some men hauling it back by the tail, while others, quickly
procuring some chunks of wood, were beating the reptile’s
back to break it. The men won the contest, and that night
feasted on their enemy the crocodile.
At all our stations we have good dispensaries, and at some,
well-equipped hospitals ; and we do our best to alleviate
suffering and save life. As non-medical missionaries we can
always comfort ourselves with the thought that what we do
medically for the natives is far better than they can do for
themselves, or have done for them by their medicine men.
We are glad, however, to say that we have now three fully
qualified doctors in our Mission, whose up-to-date scientific
knowledge, joined to their kindly sympathy with the natives,
is doing much to relieve pain and save life. Our only regret
is that we have not a doctor on every station.'
* See Appendix, Note 6, page 346, for statistics of white people’s health.
334
APPENDIX
Note 1. — On Yeasts or Ferments
Bread-making
On the Lower Congo, where palm-wine was easily procurable, I
have often made bread by using one tumbler of palm-wine to
one of lukewarm water, with some sugar to counteract the
sourness or acidity of the wine, and salt to taste. This was
mixed with flour into a dough about 8 a.m., divided into two
lumps, put into two well-floured or greased tins, and placed
out in the sun to rise, with a cloth over them to keep away
dust and dirt. About 11 or 12 o’clock the loaves would have
risen well, and were ready for baking.
If palm-wine can be bought regularly, then it can be used
for every batch of bread ; but if the supply is doubtful, or very
irregular, then a knob of the dough — about the size of an egg —
should be taken from the dough before it is divided into loaves,
put into a mug, covered and placed on one side. This lump
of dough will rise, and in two or three days, when the next
batch of bread is required, it can be thoroughly mixed with a
pint of warm water, a tablespoonful of sugar, some salt (and,
if you have it, a pinch of bicarbonate of soda), and the process
is completed, and with this yeast you can make the bread as
though using fresh palm- wine.
At Monsembe, however, there was no palm-wine, but plenty
of sugar-cane wine, so we used that with very good results.
Sugar-cane wine should be strained through a fine cloth before
using, otherwise the fibres left in the wine will irritate the
stomach and give rise to serious consequences.
The following, however, is the most satisfactory leaven that
has yet been discovered on the Congo, where it is becoming a
general favourite, and is fast ousting palm-wine as a leaven :
Take a pint bottle and put into it two tablespoonfuls of flour,
one tablespoonful of castor sugar (or its equivalent in lump
sugar), a teaspoonful of salt, nearly fill the bottle with warm
water, thoroughly shake until well mixed, lightly cork, and
336
APPENDIX
stand it in a warm corner of the house. Occasionally stir the
mixture, and on the fourth or fifth day it will sing with fer-
mentation.
I found the following the best method for making bread with
this leaven : When the contents of the bottle were singing with
fermentation I took the bottle in the evening (about 5 or 6
o’clock), and, well stirring the fermenting mixture, poured it
into a wash-hand basin, leaving at the bottom of the bottle
some of the liquid — about two fingers deep. Into the basin
was then put a half-pint of lukewarm water, a small tea-
spoonful of salt, and two lumps of sugar ; the cook boy thor-
oughly stirred into this mixture some flour to the consistency
of a batter. He generally beat the batter for ten or fifteen
minutes — the more it is beaten the lighter will be the bread.
A towel was spread over the basin, and it was put away in the
cupboard.
I then took the bottle, measured into it flour, sugar, salt, and
warm water as before, shook it well, and put it back in its
place. On account of having left in the bottle a little of the
old leaven the new preparation would be ready in two days,
and it should be used then, or not later than the third day. A
family of two or three persons will soon find how much bread
they need for two days and can add more or less water to the
leaven poured into the basin.
It will be found next morning that the batter or sponge put
away in the cupboard has almost filled the basin with a fine
dough. To this sponge add flour, well knead it into a medium
stiff dough, put in two tins, place out in the sun (or if a cloudy
day stand near the kitchen fire), drop a thin cloth over the tins
to keep dust away, and in three or four hours the dough will be
well risen, and then bake. This always gave us splendidly light
bread. An occasional pinch of bicarbonate of soda dropped
into the bottle will neutralize acidity. A good, neutral bread
is a great boon, and helps to keep one in good health.
Note 2. — On Boloki Verb
The verb in the Boloki language has the eight following forms :
Active, Passive, Stative, Causative, Prepositional, Reciprocal,
Reflexive, and Repetitive.
Active . . . kanga = to tie.
Passive . . . kangama=to be tied.
336
APPENDIX
Stative
Causative
Prepositional
Reciprocal
Reflexive .
Repetitive
kangwa=to be in a tied state.
kangija=to cause to tie.
kangela=to tie for or with.
kangana=to tie one another.
mikanga=to tie oneself.
kangelela=to tie again and again.
The moods of the verb are : Infinitive, Imperative, Indica-
tive, Subjunctive, and Purportive.
Infinitive mood is made by prefixing lo to the verb : najingi
lokcmga=l desire to tie.
The imperative is kanga, and a more emphatic form kangaka
=tie. The imperative hortative is formed by leme =let,
followed by the present subjunctive, as leme nakanga=\et me tie.
The indicative is nakanga=l tie.
The subjunctive, {te) nakanga={th.a.t) I may tie.
The purportive, naye nokakanga=l am come to tie.
The tenses are as follows :
Indicative pres, indefinitive
„ ,, „ continuous
,, „ perfect
9} 99 99 99
Indicative past indefinite
99 99 99 99
,, „ perfect
99 99 99
nakanga=I tie
nakakanga—1 am tying.
nakangi=l have tied.
nakakangi=l have been
tying.
nakangiki=l tied.
nakakangiki=l was ty-
ing.
nakangaka=l had tied.
nakakangaka — I had
been tying.
The past imperfect and progressive tenses made with the aid
of the verb “ to be ” are as follows :
Nabeki nakangi=l tied in time near past.
Nabeki nakakangi=l was tying in time near past.
Nabaka nakangi=l tied in time far past.
Nabaka nakakangi=l was tying in time far past.
Indicative future indefinite
naakakangi=l shall tie.
99
„ „ continuous
naakakanga=l shall be
99
„ perfect
tying.
naakakangaka=l shall
99
„ immediate
have been tying.
naikakanga—l am just
Y
337
about to tie.
APPENDIX
Narrative tense
ekangele=l tied.
continuous ekakangeh =1^3,$ tying.
99
There are only three conjugations to be found, and these are
formed on the final vowel of the root :
It will be interesting to the reader, before closing this very
short note on the verb, for me to give an idea of the number of
verbs that can be built up on a single verb by the aid of affixes
which can all run through the various tenses already mentioned.
The seven given in the first paragraph of this note are not re-
peated here :
Active transitive. Kanga— to tie.
Passive and prepositional. Kangeinela=to be tied for (a pur-
pose).
Passive and causative. Kangimija=to cause to be tied.
Passive, prepositional, and causative. Kangemelija=to
cause to be tied for (a purpose).
Active, reciprocal, and prepositional. Kangenela=to tie one
another for (a purpose).
Active, reciprocal, prepositional, and causative. Kangenelija
=to cause to tie one another for (a purpose).
There are many other combinations in use, but these twelve
will give some idea of the possibilities of the verb and its pre-
fixes and suffixes. It will be noted that although the passive of
kanga is kangama, yet in the above examples the vowels some-
times become e and sometimes i, this is because the vowel e in
ela (see first example, the passive and prepositional form given
in the preceding paragraph) changes the final a of kangama
into e as kangamela, and has a retro-active force in turning the
initial a of the passive suffix also into e ; kangama is really
kangaama, but as one a elides another it becomes kangama,
and kangemela is really kangamaela, but a elides before^, so it
becomes kangamela, and the e in the penultimate demands that
the other a of the suffix should become e also, hence we have
kangemela. The same euphonic law demands that kanga-ama-
ija should become kangimija, and kanga-ana-ela should become
kangenela.
SIMPLE VERB.
kanga
bete
kolo
PERFECT.
kangaka
beteke
koloko
PASSIVE.
kangama
beteme
kolomo
338
APPENDIX
There is also an intensive form of the verb that is best ex-
pressed in English by a suitable adverb :
Kata=to hold ; katatala=to hold tightly ; and this has a
causative Kaiitija— to cause to hold tightly.
Kana=to push in ; kanalala=to be pushed in too much,
kaninija=to cause to go in too far.
Ama=to press ; amamala— to be pressed too far : amimija=
to cause to be pressed too much.
Tamba=to stand out ; tambambala=to be standing out con-
spieuously, and the eausative tambimbija— to cause to stand out
well in sight.
In the above are very good examples of what I call, for the
lack of a better word, the retro-active power of their euphonic
laws for harmonizing the vowels.
By the aid of so plastic a verb we had no difficulty in ex-
pressing the finest shades of meaning in the New Testament —
a part of which is translated into the Boloki language — and in
translating other books for the benefit of the natives.
Note 3. — On Boloki Method of Counting
The numerals from 1 to 5 are declinable. The letter in brackets
is the particle that changes according to the class of the noun
used, e.g. two persons would be batu (ba) bale=-persons two
but two cloths would be bilamba {bi) 6oZe=cloths two.
The numerals are : 1, {y) awi ; 2, (i) bale ; 3, (i) atu ; 4, (i)
ne ; 5, (i) tanu ; 6, motoba ; 7, nsambu ; 8, mwambi ; 9,
libwa ; 10, jumu or mokangu mwawi=one tying; 11, jumu
na {y) awi ; 12, jumu na (i) bale ; 20, mikangu mibale ; 30,
mikangu miatu ; 40, mikangu mine ; 50, mikangu mitanu ;
60, mikangu motoba ; 70, mikangu nsambu ; 80, mikangu
mwambi ; 90, mikangu libwa ; 100, nkama or munkama ;
200, minkama mibale ; 1000, nkutu yawi ; 2000, nkutu ibale ;
10,000, mokoko ; 20,000, mikoko mibale.
The meaning of mikangu mibale (20) is, two tyings. 10 is
often called mokangu mwawi=one tying, from kanga=to tie.
It is the custom of the natives to roll their 15-inch brass rods
(the currency) into a series of rings about 1^ inches in diameter,
and these they run one on another, like split rings, until there
are ten linked together, and they call that mokangu mwawi=
one tying=10.
339
APPENDIX
The ordinal numerals are :
Motu wa bo =The person who is first, or the first person.
„ „ bane — „ „ four „ fourth „
„ „ motoba— „ „ six „ sixth „
Motu wa libwa=t\\e person who is nine, or the ninth person.
,, „ mikangu mibale na twenty-first person.
To use a word of another class we will take elamba— cloth.
Elamba ya bo =the cloth that is one, or the first cloth.
,, „ bine „ ,, four ,, fourth „
„ ,, motoba— ,, ,, six „ sixth ,,
Elamba ya mikangu miatu na bibale =the cloth that is thirty
and two, or the 32nd cloth.
The fingers are constantly used in counting. If a man wants
to say thirty-four he will say mikangu (=tyings=tens) and
hold up three fingers for those to whom he is speaking to say
miatu (=three), wa=and, hold up four fingers for them to say
(i) ne (=four). The letter in brackets changes according to
the class of the noun understood. By this means they ensure
their hearers following and understanding them, and no one
can afterwards plead that they did not hear the price properly,
as any discrepancy between the number mentioned by the
hearers and the number of fingers held up would be corrected
at the time.
The way in which the Boloki folk use their fingers is some-
what irregular, and for the sake of clearness I draw two hands
and number the fingers 1 to 10 — 1 to 5 left hand, and 6 to 10
right hand. 1 and 10 are the thumbs. The right hand is used
more than the left.
One is expressed by doubling 6, 7, 8, and putting 10 over
them, thus leaving 9, the index finger, standing alone.
Two, by doubling down 6 and 7 and putting 10 over them,
thus leaving 8 and 9 standing.
Three, by doubling down 9 and putting 10 over it, leaving
6, 7, and 8 standing.
Four, by putting 10 at the bottom of the division between
7 and 8, that causes 6 and 7 to come forward a little, so the
hand is turned about that the two sets of two fingers may be
clearly seen.
Five, the whole of the fingers of the right hand are left
standing with the palm turned towards the person to whom
you are speaking.
340
APPENDIX
Six, by doubling down 2 on the left hand and putting 1
over it, so leaving 3, 4, and 5 standing, and doubling down 9
on the right hand and putting 10 over it, so leaving 6, 7, and
8 standing, thus making two sets of three fingers.
Seven, the same as 4 with the right hand and doubling down
2 on the left hand and putting 1 over it, thus making a 4 and
a 3.
Eight, by working the right hand as under 4 and putting
1 at the bottom of the division between 3 and 4, and twisting
the hands about so that the four sets of two fingers may be
clearly seen.
Nine, by holding up the fingers of the right hand as under 5
and putting 1 at the division between 3 and 4, and twisting
the left hand about to show the two sets of two fingers.
Ten, by holding all the fingers of the two hands with
the palms towards the auditors, and every folding down
of the fingers and re-spreading of them means another 10.
Second way — by clapping the hands together, and every clap
stands for 10. Third, and more frequent method — by holding
341
APPENDIX
out the fist of the right hand, and every deeided shake of the
fist stands for ten.
Eleven, by shaking the right fist and holding up one finger
as deseribed under one.
Twelve, by shaking the right fist and holding up two fingers
as described under two ; and so on.
The toes are very rarely used in counting. I have only seen
them used when counting 20,000, and then the man stretched
down and put the fingers of both hands on the toes of both of
his feet and said : mikoko mibale=20,000. Sometimes, when
trying to give me an idea of vast numbers, they would say :
“ It will take all our fingers and toes to tell you,” i.e. tens of
thousands.
For addition and subtraction under 10 they use their fingers,
but for higher numbers they use palm nuts, or anything suitable
to hand. This is not because they are incapable of adding
and subtracting mentally, but because they are so suspicious
of each other that they want an ocular proof that the sum is
right, and that neither one is getting the better of the other.
Those who know figures and can run through their arithmetical
tables accept each other’s sums, but in transactions with the
untaught they resort to the fingers and palm nuts for counting.
They always count by fives and tens, e.g. if a person wants
to make up 26 brass rods he will take 3 rods and then put 2
with the 3 and push that 5 on one side, he will make another
5 in the same way, and then put the two fives together, making
10, and then make two more fives and put those together,
keeping, however, the tens separate, then another 5 is made
by the 3 and 2 process, and at last 1 put down. Then the two
tens are counted, and the 5, and lastly the 1.
Note 4. — On Boloki Relations oe Kinship
The accompanying lists I received about the same time from
two different young men of fair intelligence, and after I had
written the two lists down I called both the young men and
read over to them their different names for the same relative.
They each argued that what they had given was the right one,
and the other was wrong. I have found the same difficulty on
the Lower Congo. It is impossible to procure a list of any real
value. My colleagues find it much the same among other tribes.
The natives of Monsembe are unanimous respecting the
342
APPENDIX
terms for mother: =nyongo ; father=ango and iata {ango is
only used by a son to the one who begot him, tata is used by a
slave to his master, by a son to his father, and I have heard it
used by a mother to her son. It seems to be a term of respect
in its wider use) ; brother =wA;a/a ; sister is also nkaja (a sister
calls her brother nkaja, and a brother calls his sister nkaja ;
but if a girl speaks of her younger sister, or elder sister, she
uses the words mojimi for the younger one and motomolo for
the elder only ; the boy uses the same words for younger or
elder brother) ; younger sister or younger brother, nkaja
mojimi ; elder sister or elder brother, nkaja motomolo {nkaja is
never used in speaking of the same sex as the speaker, i.e. by a
sister of a sister, or a brother of a brother); wite=mwali;
husband = moZoi child = mttJana ; male child =m«jawa lele,
i.e. son ; female chA6.=mwana muntaka, i.e. daughter ; grand-
pa.Tent=nkoko ; great grandparent =^nkokolele ; great great
grandparent =ndaZoZa ; but a grandchild is nkoko, and so with
a great grandchild=nkokolele, and great great grandchild =
ndalola.
All agree in the above names for the relationships indicated,
but the farther you get away from those degrees of relationship
the more confused the native becomes, and the more contra-
dictory will be his statements. The terms of relationship are
employed in addressing each other, but personal names are
also used without any hesitation. The only exception is this :
When two persons of the same name speak to or of one another
they never mention the name, but say, ndoi= namesake. The
names of the dead are freely mentioned, and even passed on
to children. No genealogies are kept, and in two or three
generations all ties of near relationship are lost ; and if, here
and there, remembered, are non-effective except where a man
can get a drink of sugar-cane wine, or a feed by recalling kin-
ship.
343
APPENDIX
LIST OF WORDS FOR RELATIVES
ENGLISH
WORDS GIVEN BY LUTOBA
WORDS GIVEN BY INTONGI
Mother’s brother
mojika
mojika and mo mama^
Mother’s brother’s son
mo nyanyo^
No name, but takes name
Mother’s brother ’sson’sson
nso nyanqo
of mojika on his father’s
death
Called by personal name
Mother’s brother’s son’s
nkaja
until death of father and
then mojika
No distinctive name
daughter
Mother’s sister
mama
mama moti ®
Mother’s sister’s son or
mojimi or nkaja
No distinctive name
daughter
Mother’s sister’s son’s son
mojimi or nkaja
No distinctive name
Mother’s sister’s son’s
mojimi or nkaja
No distinctive name
daughter
Father’s sister
tamwalimoto
tamwalimoto
Father’s sister’s son
bola
mwana wa tamwalimoto^
Father’s sister’s daughter
Father’s sister’s son’s son
nkaja
mwana wa tamwalimoto
wa mwa nyango ®
No distinctive name
Father’s sister’s son’s
daughter
Father’s brother
nkaja
No distinctive name
tata
® ta mungwende, or on his
Father’s brother’s son
mojimi
father’s death he is
called tata or tata elenge’
No distinctive name
Father’s brother’s daugh-
nkaja
No distinctive name
ter
Father’s brother’s son’s son
mojimi
No distinctive name
Father’s brother’s son’s
nkaja
No distinctive name
daughter
Brother’s child
mwana
mwana
Brother’s child’s child
mwana
mwana
Grandfather,grandmother,
nkoko
nkoko
grandchild
Great grandfather, great
nkokolele
nkokolele
grandmother, great
grandchild
Great great grandfather.
ndalola
ndalola
great great grandmother,
great great grandchild
^ nso mama and * mo nt/ango are practically the same, as the second word
in each phrase means mother, and bowels; and the idea is: the one
who comes from the same womb as my mother ; the word nso is only used
of maternal relatives.
® mama moti = the little mother.
* mwana wa tamn>alimoio = child of tamwalimoto,
® wa mwa nyango = of or from the little mother; m\oa is the diminutive
particle.
® ta mupffwende= one who stands in place of another.
tata deny e= young or boy father.
344
7
APPENDIX
Mama is not an introduced word, as we found it in full use on
our arrival ; and although it was often used about one’s own
mother, yet it had the same meaning, as applied to a female
relative, mistress, or mother, that tata has to a male relative,
master or father.
By “ no distinctive name,” I mean no term indicative of
relationship. They were known by their personal name only.
Note 5. — On Native Diseases
List of Native Diseases and their Native Names
1. Scrotal hernia, lihoke denotes an early stage, and the
word also means a parcel, bundle ; benda is a later stage when
the hernia is large ; and likuku the last stage when the hernia
reaches the knees. I have seen two or three examples of the
last stage.
2. Paralysis from sickness, boboku. I never saw a case of
this.
3. Smallpox, kokotu. We had an epidemic of this disease
in 1893. Some people died, and others carry the marks to this
day.
4. Bad diarrhoea, bolete, is supposed to be the result of a
curse.
5. Bleeding at the nose from any cause, bolongo.
6. Insanity, bomwa ; mild insanity in which there is ex-
treme foolishness, lemana.
7. Madness of a violent character, mokalala.
8. Idiocy, bowewe and ewelewete.
9. Asthmatical wheezing, yoko and likoko.
10. Cough, ekokotu. Coughs and colds are very common.
11. Crack in skin, etena. This is common and very trouble-
some, especially when on the sole of the foot, as the hard skin
takes months to heal.
12. Crippled limb, etengumwi. This is very rare and results
from a wound received in a fight, or from a burn, or from
walking on the toes, heel, or side of the foot when there is a
crack in the sole.
13. Nervous condition, jita-jita-jita, i.e. twitching.
14. Bad fever, molungi juku-juku=hea,t, or fire plenty plenty.
Fevers are common among the natives and yield to simple
treatment. The temperature often goes very high.
15. Great debility, lela.
345
APPENDIX
16. Poor state of health, indicated by frequent crops of boils
breaking out on various parts of the body, libembe.
17. Patches of pustular sores, lifwanja.
18. Sore throat, lilele.
19. Yaws, lingala, mostly used in the plural, mangala.
20. Puffy condition of the body, probably a form of dropsy,
lontutu.
21. Blindness, lulanda; not common.
22. Sleeping-sickness, luwa, yobi, and viakwata.
23. Form of non-infectious leprosy in which the skin becomes
a sickly white, indurated, cracked, and peeling. It is found
generally on the hand and the arm below the elbow, munkana.
24. Very bad rheumatism, yambaka. Persons suffering from
this complaint must not burn the wood of a certain tree called
lobaka, or the pain will become more acute.
25. Intestinal worms, munsobi, and munsembe.
26. Dysentery with much blood, mwajakongo.
27. Ague fever, nyankili.
28. Chest complaints of all kinds, as pleurisy, pneumonia,
etc., are called ntulu=c\\Qst ; to feel or suffer from such is oka
ntulu = hear, i.e. feel the chest. It is also called mobanji = side, ribs.
29. Elephantiasis, mungita; not very common.
30. Abscesses and severe boils, litunganaka.
31. Umbilical hernia, muntolu; very common.
32. Scabies, mputu.
33. Fits and convulsions, bonsinga.
34. Sciatica, and extreme debility, yombi.
35. Boil, ndala ; very frequently found.
36. Mild form of rheumatism, mokoko.
37. Cataract of the eye, elalei and molondo ; common.
38. Blindness in one eye, muntelele ; occasionally found.
39. Ganglion on back of hand and wrist, etai.
40. Deafness, Idko ; very seldom noticed.
41. Dumbness, mbubu. I never met with a case, but the fact
that a word is known for it shows that the complaint is occa-
sionally to be found among the people.
42. Venereal diseases, lisabu.
Note 6. — On Health of White Men on the Congo
Perhaps the following statistics respecting the health of white
people on the Congo will interest the reader. I have kept care-
ful notes during the last thirty years, and the figures may be
346
APPENDIX
accepted as accurate. The figures refer only to Missionaries of
the Baptist Missionary Society.
One hundred and ten men have joined the Mission since its
inception in 1878 until December 31st, 1911.
Of these : died . . . . . .38
Left for various reasons (not through health) 8
„ through personal health
.
. 15
,, „ wife’s health .
•
6
67
Still in active service ,
•
. 43
Total
•
. 110
Died during first year on the Congo
13
,, ,, second ,,
99
3
„ „ third
99
7
„ „ fourth „
99
3
,, ,, fifth ,,
99
1
„ „ sixth
99
2
„ „ seventh „
99
2
„ „ eighth „
99
1
„ „ ninth
99
1
,, ,, tenth ,,
99
1
„ „ twelfth „
99
1
,, „ sixteenth,.
99
1
,, ,, twenty-sixth
99
2
38
Of the above men, died of haimaturic fever . 9
„ malarial ,, . .19
,, dysentery . . 2
„ other diseases . . 6
Died in a London Hospital from cancerous growth
in the stomach ...... 1
Died in England from embolism (clot in the blood-
vessels of the brain) ..... 1
Total 38
During recent years we have found it advisable for men to
remain out only for a first term of two years instead of three
347
APPENDIX
years, and afterwards four years instead of five years as
formerly.
During the same period 79 ladies have joined the Mission.
Of these :
Died
.
19
Left as widows .
11
Left for personal health
11
Left for husband’s health
■
4
45
Still in active service .
•
•
34
Total
•
•
79
Died during the first year on the Congo
5
,, second ,,
99
1
„ third
99
2
99
,, fourth ,,
99
5
99
,, sixth „
99
1
99
„ eighth „
99
2
99
„ eleventh „
99
1
99
,, fourteenth
99
1
99
„ twenty-sixth
99
1
19
Of the above ladies, died of haematuric fever . . 5
„ malarial „ . .7
„ puerperal „ . .3
„ meningitis . . .1
,, abscess on the liver . 1
Died from typhoid fever at Eastbourne . . .1
Died from some brain trouble in America . . 1
19
During the first years of our Mission we lost the most of
our men through bad houses, poor food, and ignorance of the
proper treatment of fevers, etc. From 1878 to 1890 we lost
in twelve years 20 men by death ; but during the twenty years
from 1891 to 1911 we have lost 18 men, although we have had
in the field on active service twice, and sometimes thrice, as
many men as in the earlier twelve years. The first years cost
348
APPENDIX
us most dearly while we were buying our experience. I might
say that we are total abstainers, but are willing to take alcohol
medicinally ; and the smokers and non-smokers are about
equally divided. Every man and woman must undergo a very
strict and careful medical examination before being accepted
by the Committee of the Society.
It will be seen that the first year of a man’s life on the Congo
is the most crucial one, and the next trying year is the third,
i.e. at the beginning and end of a man’s first term of service.
We have altered the first term to two years. In the case of the
ladies the first year and the fourth are the erueial ones. The
ladies’ first term of service has always been two years, then one
year at home. The figures point to the early months of the
first and second terms as being most fatal. It will be noticed
that the ladies have stood the climate better than the men ;
but they have never roughed it as the men, nor do they ever
have to expose themselves in doing the kind of work that
necessarily falls to the men — looking after building, trans-
port, etc.
349
INDEX
Accidents, 331, 333
Adultery, 128, 181
African International Association, 20
Albinos, 325
Ancestors, 268
Arts and crafts, 83 ; leather-work,
84 ; string-making, 85 ; bark-cloth,
86; pottery, 87; metal- work, 89,
90 ; salt-making, 91 ; songs, 93 ;
carpentering, 95
Astronomy, knowledge of, 141 ; be-
liefs re sun, moon, and stars, 142
Bangala tribe, the, 18, 27, 161 ; lan-
guage, 48 ; station, 48 ; district, 161
Bantu tribe, the, 159, 160
Bark-cloth, 86
Barter, system of, 143 ; and cur-
rency, 39
Belgian maladministration, 20 ; atro-
cities, 24, 25
“ Bespoke ” money, 123
Blood-brotherhood, 72, 73, 100, 226
Blood-feuds, 99, 181
Bokomela tribe, the, 31, 32
Boloho, 202
Bomuna tribe, the, 161, 162, 163,
250
Bonjoko, 99
“ Books,’’ superstitions concerning,
40, 46, 47, 74
Boys, training of, 143, 145
Brass rods, 39 n.
Bread-making, 335
Bride-price, the 123
Building, methods of, 65
Bumba, 34, 35
Bungundu Tribe, the, 28, 29, 30
Burial alive, 103, 320, 319 ; burial
customs, 104, 105
Bush-burning, 229, 230
“ Bush-people,” the, 19
Cannibalism, 31, 69, 70, 78, 104
Charms, 145, 146, 147, 232, 255, 280,
287, 302
Child-bearing, beliefs concerning,
129, 130, 131
Children, twins, 130, 132, 133, 141,
273, 290
Circumcision, 298
Cloud- folk, 274
Coffins, 317
Congo boy in England, 79
Congo Free State, the, 20
Congo, reforms in the, 25 ; Bolobo
Mission, 28; Basin, 159; River,
161, 236
Cookery, difficulties of, 44 ; native,
117
Corpses, decoration of, 316 ; smoking
of, 317
Counting, Boloki method of, 142,
339-42
Court of justice, 183
Crimes, native, 179
Curiosity, native, 74
Curses, native, 299-301
Customs, 26, 102, 103 ; marriage,
122, 171, 179 ; burial, 314
Crocodiles, 332
Dancing, 119, 120, 227, 321
Death, three causes of, 314 ; life
after, 321
Diboko (Nouvelles Anvers), 48, 161,
163
Diseases, 269, 325, 344, 345 ; diag-
nosis of, 330
Disembodied spirits, 250, 263, 267
Divorce, 128
Dogs, hunting, 233
Dreams, 262
Drunkenness, 101
Eboko, 114, 126
Education, 75, 140, 143
Explosion, an, 316
INDEX
Families, social status of, 170
Fc&sts 104'
Fetishes, 252-6 ; fetish bell, 292, 302
Fish collecting for the Museum, 235 ;
traps, 236-44
Floods, 231
Folk lore, 197-221
Food, 117, 160
Funeral ceremonies, 322
Game, 230, 231
Games, 149-58
Goats, present of two, 44
Government, democratic, of Boloki
tribe, 172
Government, ideal of European, 26 ;
native, 169
Graves, 318
Healers of special diseases, 327
Hospitality, 117, 137
Hospitals, ^4
Houses, native, 43
Human sacrifices, 97, 263
Hunting, 145, 229-34
Immorality, 147
Inheritance, laws of, 111,182
Insanity, 173, 291
Islands, 165
Jando, 272
Judge, the chief, 179
Justice, native ideas of, 182 ; court
of, 183-186 ; author as judge,
192; typical cases, 193-196
Kiteke tribe, the, 257 n.
Labour, 114
Libinza Lake, 161, 162, 163, 165
Land, communal rights of, 109
Language, “trade,” 48; Bangala,
48, 50-54. 57-64, 336, 339
Laws, native, 170, 179
Leather-work, 84
Leopold II, King of Belgium, 20, 25
Longa, 107, 202, 249
Love-philtres, 286
Lower Congo, the men of, 160, 162,
230, 246, 251, 254, 257, 267, 276,
230, 314, 335
Lupus in the Congo, 73 n.
Makwata and his talking spear, 278
351
Manga, 100, 101
Mangumbe, 264
IVTflCCQfTP QQT
Mata,\d2, 170, 171 ; Bwiki, 163, 169
Matadi, 19
Mayeya’s long dive, 277
Meat, mode of preserving, 232
Medicine men, and witch-doctors and
mt^ic, 95,97, 102, 103, 232, 251, 258
Medicine, native, 327
276, 280, 284, 293, 311, 324
Metal-work, 89, 90
Migration of native tribes, 162
Milk-brotherhood, 132
Mission on the Congo, 137
Mokwete, story of, 118
Monanga, 170
Monogamy, 138. 139
Monoka mwa Nkoi, 166
Monsembe District, the, 34, 36, 159,
163, 231
Monsters, mythical, 273
Mourning, signs of, 320, 321
Moon, beliefs concerning, 142, 248
Mother-in-law, the, 133, 134
Mungala Creek, the, 163, 164 ; river,
164
Munyata, murder of, 164
Murder, punishment for, 181 , detec-
tion of murderer, 310
Musuku, 22
Natives, characteristics of, 17, 23,
24, 25, 117, 174, 176, 177
Nether world, the, 321
Nouvelles Anvers Station, 48, 161,
163
Nursing the sick, 316
Nzambi, 247
Omens, 131, 226, 227, 233, 262
Ordeals, poison, 182, 185-9;
various, 190, 191
Palavers, 191
Peace, the steamer, 27
Pictures, learning to read, 173
Pioneers, early Christian, 22 n.
Polygamy, 125, 134, 135, 136, 139
Portuguese Roman Catholic Mission,
24 n.
Pottery, 87
Purification, rite of, 102
Raiding expeditions, 166
INDEX
Railways, the narrow-gauge, 19
Rain-doctors, 96, 280
Religious beliefs, 246, 249, 250, 251,
252, 254, 255, 257, 258, 263
Reincarnation, belief in, 130, 198
River-rights, 110
Rivers : Congo, 161, 237 ; Mobangi,
161 ; Welle, 161 ; Nrgiri, 165 ;
Mungala, 164
San Salvador, 17, 22, 258
Salt-making, 91
Salutations, 107
Skulls, use of, 323
Slaves, no. 111, 113, 125, 170
Sleeping-sickness, treatment, 289
Smallpox, native cure for, 288
Smith, a native, 90
Snake omen, the, 131, 226
Songs, native, 92, 93, 120
Spirits : belief in, 98, 250, 261 ; dis-
embodied, 263 ; fear of, 266 ; de-
ception of, 267 ; effect of, 268 ; of
disease, 269, 325 ; transference
into criminals, 271, 282 ; of wealth,
271 ; of the bush, 274 ; transfer-
ence into spears, 274; in trees, 275 ;
of the saucepan, 286 ; possession,
328
Sport, native, 144, 239
Stanley Pool, 19
String-making, 85
Suicide, 322
Superstitions, 40, 46, 131, 167, 176,
197, 227, 232, 248, 323
Swimming, 144
Taboos, 84, 114, 294; permanent,
196 ; temporary, 297 ; removal of,
298, 326
Tattooing, 140, 141, 167
Teeth, chiselling of, 141
Theft, 147, 175, 180; detection of
thief, 310
Time, system of reckoning, 142
Trade and currency, 114, 115, 143
Trade routes, 21, 22
Trading factories, 22
Transmigration, 197
Traps, game, 145, 233, 234, 236
Tribal marks, 167
Totems, 131, 132, 147, 294
Twins, treatment of, 130
“ Undertakers,” native, 317
Upper Congo, 17, 49, 129, 230, 237,
246, 280, 332
Villages, 115
Virgins, 136
Vocabulary, collecting a, 50-4, 57-61
War, tribal, 68, 116 ; the family
light, 222 ; the town fight, 224
Weapons, 227, 228
Wine : sugar-cane, 100, 254, 322,
335 ; palm, 335
Women : native treatment of, 77, 78,
95 ; widows. 111, 117 ; family life,
119; marriage, 122-6; divorce,
128 ; quarrels about, 226 ; disposal
of widows. 111, 321 ; mourning of
widows, 321 ; rights of wives, 125 ;
loan of wives, 125 ; self-defence of
wives, 126 ; exchange of wives,
128, 264 ; inherited wives, 182 ;
white, 347
Workmen, native, 81, 82
Zanzibaris, the, 20, 21
WILLIAM DRBNDOM AND SON, LTD. PRINTBR9, PLYMODTB
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